Hi, everybody! It’s that time again! Time to get your quote selected so you can come up with a creative story, poem, or whatever else you would like to share about your quote.
Ronovan is in charge this week and he chose the theme of:
Please make sure to link to Ronovan’s post HERE. Here is my contribution for this week on the theme of “trust.” I wrote a short story called:
Sidney ran after the trash that blew in whorls down the path at the back of her house. Picking up as much as possible in one hand she shoved fistfuls of garbage into another trash bag as she surveyed the bushes on each side of the lane. Disgusted, she shook her head at the chore ahead of her.
For Sidney, it felt like she was the only one who ever took the trash out. Her husband, Jackson never did it. As a matter of fact, today found him on another one of his working trips, far from home.
The wind howled again. Another gust blew papers and a dirty coffee filter further down the trail. “I’m going to be late for work,” Sidney said out loud to the wind. “I don’t have time for this today!”
Nevertheless, Sidney kept at it. She just did not want to leave the path strewn with papers and banana peels. It just wasn’t right.
Finally, Sidney picked up the last of the trash she found swirling in an eddy of dry leaves. The bits of paper swirled around like water going down a drain. Satisfied the job was complete, Sidney made her way back down the path to the house.
Another gust of wind rattled the dead brown leaves on the trees surrounding the path. One last piece of white paper fluttered by swept up in a puff of wind. Sidney watched as the envelope plastered itself against the trunk of a nearby tree. With a little effort, she snatched at the envelope, grabbing it before it flew away in the wind once again.
The white envelope did not look familiar. Glancing at the handwriting Sidney realized it was addressed to her husband. That’s odd, she thought. Where did this come from? Something inexplicable drew Sidney to the mysterious writing on the front of the envelope. It was clearly a woman’s handwriting.
Sidney knew deep down that she should not open this letter as it was not hers, but in spite of that, she tore it open anyway. Inside was a credit card receipt for the Motel 6 down the road. The bill stated that Jackson had gotten a king size bed for two along with a full bar with room service last Saturday night. The total bill came to $225.79. On a separate note and in a distinct penmanship that belonged to a woman was scrawled:
I forgot to give you this receipt. You can use it as a business tax deduction. See you in a couple of weeks. Same place, same time. I’ll bring the wine.
Incredulous, Sidney reread the name on the note over and over again. Time seemed to slow down and stand still. Sidney realized at first glance that the name and credit card information did, in fact, belong to Jackson. Grappling with this new bit of information, Sidney knew she was going to have to face the truth. Jackson had been out of town last Saturday – working, at some meeting with the company’s accountants.
A quiet realization dawned in her eyes. Jackson had been cheating on her! Suffocating and feeling like she could not breathe Sidney gasped for air. She continued to read the receipt and the note over and over again as tears erupted from a place deep within her soul. The hurt was deep. Sidney felt raw and exposed while naked emotions overtook her. She stood in the cold wind, battered and broken.
Abruptly, Sidney’s cell phone rang shrilly in her pocket, startling her even further. Choking and sputtering, she answered as best she could with tears streaming down her face. Her voice was cloaked with emotion.
It was the Highway Patrol. Sargeant Gregson regretted to inform her that her husband, Jackson had been killed in a car wreck on the interstate yesterday evening. They had tried to reach Sidney this morning however, no one was at home. Instead, they called the cell phone number they had found in Jackson’s cell next to her name.
Shocked and dazed by the news, Sidney thanked the officer on the phone and stood there, feet rooted to the ground. Jackson was gone. Dead! Killed in a car crash. It was at that moment Sidney realized that if she had not found that motel receipt and note she never would have known what a cheating, lying, bastard she had married.
Sidney silently tore up the motel receipt into tiny shreds and let the wind carry them away from her. She wished she had never opened that envelope. She staggered the rest of the way toward her house as the wind tore at her from all angles. Silently, Sidney began preparing herself to plan a funeral for a cheater. She only hoped she could pull it off.
I hope you enjoy my story about “trust.” Thanks for stopping by. I’ll see you next week when it is my turn to host the Writers Quote Wednesday Writing Challenge.