For Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge #105, where we write about this photo from aw-landscapes at DeviantArt.com.
George had really got into this. Since he discovered Geocaching, last summer, there had been no stopping him. His wife, Mary, couldn’t complain, either, as George was getting good exercise and losing weight with it. Anything which helped counter his middle-age spread was welcome. He had even tried to enthuse her, but while she enjoyed the odd ramble in the country, hunting for something as silly as a notebook did not excite her.
“I’ve taken next Monday off, by the way”, he had announced, “thought I might go over to Ditton Wood, see what I can find over there“. “Are you sure that’s wise? The weatherman predicted snow”, replied Mary.
“Ah, bloody weathermen, they never get things right. I’ll be fine.” Mary noted, however, that as George was leaving the house on Monday, it *had* started snowing. It was only light so far, and George had pooh-poohed it. “It’s only a flurry, it’ll be stopped in five minutes”. But Mary thought it was getting stronger. “More fool you”, she thought, as she turned the heating up. There was nothing would get *her* to leave the house, on a day like today.
She made a brew, sat down, and found an old Bogart film on TV. It was just concluding when, just over an hour later, the phone rang. “Mary? It’s George. I’m coming home, make sure that the kettle is boiled and that there’s plenty of hot water. I’m at the wood, but all these bloody trees, they all look the same. There’s no way I’m gonna find anything today, and I’m freezing cold, so I’m coming home for a long, hot soak.”