99-word story: Things that go bang in the night
‘What was that?’
‘Mmm?’
‘That bang.’
Dragged from a dream involving Kier Starmers on bicycles dressed as clowns, I groaned.
‘Go and look,’ she said, kneeing me off the bed.
I stumbled to the door, listening. Silence. Then, bravely, I Chuck-Norrised my way through every room, lights ablaze.
Nothing.
Only the kitchen left.
A smell.
Light on.
Fear.
‘What is it?’ she yelled.
My doom, I thought.
Her pristine floor drowned beneath a wine puddle seeping from the fridge door — the one I’d promised to fix.
From the bottle she’d told me not to force the cork back into.
My Words, My World 