TGIF

It had been a particularly difficult week. And the last few hours had simply crawled. No, just refused to move. 

Finally -


Your message has been sent.

I’m done I’m done I’m done.

Click.

Windows is shutting down.

‘Hey, you wanna get a drink?’ a colleague called out.

‘Sorry, I have plans!’ she smiled cheerily as she sprinted out the door. 

She counted the colours in the sky on her way home, humming a song tunelessly.

Two glasses of wine later-

GAME OVER

Damn.

Five glasses of wine later-

GAME OVER

Fuck. Stupid, stupid Pacman.

Suddenly she couldn’t wait for Monday.

The Proposal

They always went to open-air restaurants.

She was allergic to cigarette smoke. And he was, well, a chain smoker.


His clothes always stink of cigarettes and…ugh, his teeth are starting to yellow. She frowned at him from across the table.


He was quite oblivious to her scrutiny.


I will never marry a chimney. She wrinkled her nose in annoyance as the fumes passively touched her face.


‘Give me your hand,’ he said, grinning, and wove a delicate smoke ring around her ring finger.


‘Will you marry me?’


She stared at him for a second before deciding.


‘Yes!’ she replied, ecstatic.