In a cafe across the road he watches Gretchen walking down the street loaded with grocery bags. She puts the groceries down to unlock her front door and then kicks it closed behind her.
Relieved to be home, Gretchen kicks off her shoes and heads into the kitchen. As she’s putting away the groceries she notices her maesog. Puzzled, she looks down to find a small puddle of water, and then sees that the flowers she put in a vase on the sill this morning, are now on the floor. ‘Bloody hell Charlie, where are you, puss?’
Across the road, he texts ‘Home to roost’.
For 100 consecutive days I will write and post a short story (about 100 words) incorporating a randomly selected word from Afterliff: A new dictionary of things there should be words for.
The feeling of having stepped in something wet while wearing socks.
One who leaves a tip and then hangs around to see what kind of reaction it gets.