Sunday, 6 November 2011

Together, part 8: Consequences

This is ds106 assignment on writing a fanfic about another blogger, taken one step further by being a continuing story written in parts without prior planning, and via the revolving effort of 2 bloggers going back and forth.

Part 1Part 2Part 3Part 4Part 5Part 6Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, to be continued...

"I was on the phone making frantic calls to our friend Casey Medsker-Saban when I heard the sound of the door being unlocked. He came back, finally, and although my first thought was absolute relief that nothing had actually happened, my gaze soon fell on the myriad bags of...stuff that he held in his hands. Convenience store bags, filled with an assortment of snacks, microwaveable gyoza and cans of coffee. He was also holding in his other hand what was clearly an assortment of packed oden, still warm despite the chilly outside air.

"Where were you?" I wanted to ask but the worry I had faced when uncertain of my husband's safety and whereabouts turned to anger in an instant, and it was all I could do to keep silent instead of exploding at the figure standing in the doorway, holding supper.

It was beyond me how some people can be totally ignorant of others around him, selfishly thinking about food when others worry. If he was that unsatisfied with my cooking he could have at least told me so. No wonder there was leftover karaage after dinner. I turned about and made my way through the apartment, heading to the bedroom. I had had enough; it was late and tomorrow was a workday, meaning that I could already look forward to a tired commute on the packed morning train. "The dishes are in the sink. Turn off the lights when you're done," I said tersely before going in to the bedroom. The man can do the dishes for once; I certainly do all the cooking. I slammed the door shut behind me, forgetting for an instant that Casey was asleep in the next room. I realised my mistake a second later but the creak of his bedroom door and his light footsteps moments later confirmed that I had indeed woken him, as a brief round of expletives temptingly crept up to the edge of my tongue.

"What's going on mommy?" he peeked in through the door to ask. I moved towards him, bending down and offering a hug in place of a proper answer. "Mommy and daddy are fighting again" isn't something you willingly tell your child late at night before a school day. Besides, if anyone should be offering any explanations Mr. I Got Supper can provide. He should be well enough equipped for that much."

Go to Part 9.


  1. having now read through your story.... wait wa?? very well told though and sounds like it could be a television drama!