Short Story Preview: Tin Wedding
It all started the evening I opened that tin of potatoes.
Robert came into the kitchen saying he wanted to talk to me. Robert hardly ever came into the kitchen. In the old days kitchens used to be women’s domains. It had certainly been mine for the last ten years, or so I thought.
‘Can’t it wait ’til after dinner?’ I had my back to him.
‘No Ann, it can’t.’ His voice sounded insistent and edgy.
‘What is it then?’
He paused, shuffled from one foot to the other, coughed and shuffled some more.
‘Well, spit it out Robert.’
‘Very well. I’m having an affair Ann. With Hilary.’
And that was when the opener jammed and I sprained my wrist.
‘Hilary?’ I screeched, swinging round to face him. ‘Hilary! Your secretary?’
He nodded, his face grave and pink.
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