Yes, Laura; I’m on my way home now.

Where am I? I’m walking across the car park, the one in front of the old Mairie – you know, the building that lost a great chunk of its render in the riots last Michaelmas.

That’s the one.

I know it’s a long way off. I’ll be as quick as I can, but it’s going to take the best part of an hour, depending on the traffic.

You’d think, wouldn’t you? Trouble is, everything they do seems to make it worse, not better. Anyway, why did you want me to call? You know what time I’m expected.


I didn’t know you had an appointment this evening; there’s nothing in our shared calendar.

Okay. What time do you expect to be back? Do I need to walk and feed the dogs?

Fine, I’ll do that. You didn’t say what time you’d be back.

What do you mean, you won’t?

You’re leaving me?

Is it something I’ve done? Something I’ve said?

Then, why?

Are you still there? Laura? Hello… hello…

This was written in response to Kreative Kue 222 published on this site.

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