Ficlets

He always considered his wife as kind of funny looking. Not in the slightly squint eyed sort of way, but in the not-quite-able-to-put-your-finger-on-it-but-I-find-it-strangely-attractive one.

He stood there looking at her, standing in the kitchen doorway, unable to gauge any intent from the expression on her face.

“What?” she blurted out, biscuit crumbs spraying out in all directions.

“What is that supposed to mean…finally? Was it a delivery you were expecting?” he asked incredulously.

“No of course not. Stop being so melodramatic and go and bring it in. It’s obviously someone’s idea of a joke. Go and get it.”

He shook his head in utter disbelief and turned back out of the front door towards the mailbox.

Striding back into the house he waved it towards her “See, this isn’t a joke? This is a real…”

He stopped mid sentence, the loud bang and flash bringing his tirade to an abrupt halt; groaning as his wife stumbled back through the kitchen door and crashed into the fridge.

“Shit!”