Short story from a picture

I have to link to the picture

Morgan put his hand up to open the door just as his phone rang. “Please don’t be Greta,” he muttered as he fumbled his phone out of his pocket while pushing the door open.

He sighed at the call display. His wife, Haile. He hadn’t planned on working this late. Again. He promised he’d be home for supper this time. He’d make it this time as well, if she didn’t demand a last-minute errand.

“I’m on my way,” he said.

“You’re late.”

He cringed. “I’m not late. If I drive the speed limit I’ll make it in time for supper.”

“Parker’s play is tonight.”

“Tonight? No, I put a reminder on my phone. It would have reminded me earlier.”

As if on cue, his phone made the reminder sound. Seriously? Mother of frickin’ for the love of all that is good and holy. Couldn’t forget the holy.

He stopped just outside the building. Not quite under the archways. He sighed. “What time does it start?”

“Thirty-eight minutes.”

He tapped his toe and weighed his options. “I’ll speed a little. Swing by pick you up. We’ll eat after.”

“We’ll be late.”

“Mt brother is the lead character. We’ll miss the first bit of the play.”

Morgan started off at a run for his car. “I’m on my way.” His feet thumped as he ran down the brick path, past the arches toward the parking lot and freedom.

Enhanced by Zemanta
Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under Uncategorized

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s