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Fruitbowl: creative writing story

FruitbowlObject: fruitbowlActors: Keith and Susan; Bubbles the catSetting: homeIssue: feelings shown but don’t tellI wake up to a hasty clinking of keys at the front door as Keith heaves himself into the house.  Bubbles stirs from her afternoon snooze and slides off the table to greet Keith.  That’s enough sun bathing for one day.  I don’t mind her flopping on top of me but being licked by a cat’s gravelly tongue is unbearable.Keith enters the room with a sigh and dumps his keys and mobile phone onto me.  He is unshaven and looking a little dishevelled. He will pay if there are any scratches on my glass.  After easing himself on to the plump sofa Keith puts his head into his hands.  I reckon he is still pondering about last night.  He’s in trouble if he doesn’t find that cigarette burn down the side of the sofa before Susan does.  We had fun, Keith and I, watching the adult channels till the early hours of the morning, although he was trying his hand at poker on the web again.  When Keith finally called it day – or should I say three in the morning – he woke up with the remains of his coffee in his lap.  Not a word was spoken between Keith and Susan this morning.  He still reeked of a noxious cocktail of alcohol and sweat, and wasn’t going to be let anywhere near Susan in her power suit and carefully applied make-up.The front door rattles again and Keith lets out a silent but deep groan.  It’s Susan but she dashes straight off upstairs.  Keith looks over his shoulder and back at Bubbles,“What do you reckon Bubbles?  Am I still in the dog house?” Bubbles smiles knowingly at him. She joined in the fun last night as well.  Susan then hesitantly appears in the living room and just stares at him.  Her dark suit seems to match her mood.  Bubbles looks eagerly at them both for her dinner.“Sorry,”  mumbles Keith.  Susan’s going to want more than a pithy apology for having to endure him throwing up in middle of the night.  She made him sleep downstairs for a whole weekend when he was  last out on a bender with his colleagues.“What for?” replies Susan. “Oh, for being a pisshead.  Well I already knew that.”  She then pauses to let the insult bed in.  “So where’s dinner? It’s your turn, or are you still hungover?” she sarcastically remarks.  After pausing to see if Keith has anything worthwhile to say Susan leaves the room in a huff.  Keith’s jaw has opened but there are only dental fillings for us to contemplate. He needs to sort it out with her; I don’t want it to be just him and me again tonight.  His choice of movies hasn’t changed in a decade.  Susan returns with a glass of orange juice for herself and sinks into the chair slightly facing Keith but  without having to properly look at him.  Keith then splutters something about Susan’s turn to go out next week when her phone rings.  The r’n’b ring tone is slightly at odds with the arctic temperature in the room at the moment.  She glances at the screen and hastily closes the call.“What?” Susan retorts without even a glance.  “Look, I don’t care.  Get pissed if you want to.”  “But you know how stressful it is for me at work with the new boss and stuff.” Susan doesn’t reply. This is going nowhere. Bubbles is still sat by Keith and is going to let out a piercing yowl if no one feeds her soon.  Keith sheepishly looks across at Susan expecting her ultimate dagger like cutting remark we have all come to admire when he crosses the line with her, but she’s staring in to the garden instead.  “Have you not watered the plants yet?”“I’ve joined the boys at work in something but I am not sure I should have done,” Keith is looking directly at Susan but she is glancing down at her phone instead.“So what’s for dinner?” Susan asks again and I am beginning to lose it with both of them.“Look, can we talk?” Keith is actually looking down at Bubbles and she looks expectantly back at him.Susan finishes off her drink and contemplates Keith.  Just to the right of Keith is the cigarette burn peaking out by the cushion.  Perhaps if Susan saw that she could let rip into Keith and then they could both disappear off upstairs, or at least feed Bubbles, who’s now gone off to look for a mouse outside.  The silence hangs over the room like a thundery cloud about to stop play at a cricket match that is already doomed to draw.“Keith,” says Susan tentatively, “ I’ve something to tell you.” 

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