The men in Cressida’s life are as prone to extravagant gestures as Cressida is to studied understatement.
Thus relationships seldom endure.
But they do say that you never know the true nature of a man until you leave him, so Cressida finds herself mildly curious to establish the content of the tightly-taped and padlocked crate outside her gate.
She nudges it with a neatly-shod toe. There’s resistance.
Her husband’s head perhaps?
Or her lover’s heart…?
Interest waning, she retreats indoors.
In the midday sun, the box shifts slightly.
“Are you there, Cressida?” says a plaintive voice, “please, I beg of you…”
In this world of wokerie, and after due consideration, I opted against calling this “When The Fat Lady Sings” – I wouldn’t want the cancel culture to finish off the job that lockdown has already started. Our anchor of sanity, Rochelle, leads us out into the world of Friday Fictioneer 100 word stories yet again.