The Injured Party

For Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge #107, where we write about this photo from Pixabay.

She sat dozing in her armchair. She spent most afternoons like this, dozing, since her retirement almost two years ago. A shrill knock at the door aroused her. “Who could that be?” She did not get many visitors, these days.

She padded down the hallway and meekly opened the door. “Mrs Evans ?” She didn’t recognise the man standing before her, who was wearing an ill-fitting suit and who smelled of cigarettes.

“I’m Terry McFarlane, from Sun Hill CID. Are you Mrs Linda Evans?” “Yes, officer”, she looked taken aback, “how can I help?” “It’s about Colin Dermott Evans.” Her husband. Without hesitation, she replied “yes, officer, please come in.” She led him into the parlour. Seated, she asked “What do you want with Colin? We split up, you know, it must be five years ago now. So I’m not sure how much I can help you”, she added for good measure.

“It’s a strange one, Mrs Evans. It comes via New South Wales State Police, a Mr Terence Evans is worried about the whereabouts of Mr Colin Evans.”

“Terry?”, she replied, aghast. “But Terry’s been over there, must have been thirty years since. Even when he lived here, there was no love lost, they didn’t get on.”

“Apparently, Terence Evans has been trying to contact Colin Evans for the last six months, has been unable to trace him and contacted his local police, who in turn contacted us.”

“So, how can I help?”

“Well, we wondered if you might have any idea of your husband’s whereabouts?”

“I’m sorry, officer. I threw him out for the last time, five years ago.” She added acidically, “he always had a string of women – you could try finding one of them…”.

“So, can you tell us anything that might help us?”

“Well, I bumped into one of his old gambling buddies about three years ago, he said Colin had flown out to Thailand at the start of the winter.” The policeman noted this down. “And can you tell us the name of this friend?” He noted that down, too.

Another five minutes, and Linda had clearly been as much help as she was going to be. The policeman said his thanks, and departed.

Returning to her lounge, Linda walked to the sideboard and gently patted the skull, which formed the centrepiece. She wondered what she should do next.

“I think you need to lie low for a while, Colin, don’t you?”

(Rest and) Recovery

inspired by Fandango’s One Word Challenge (FOWC) of 22 February 2021, particular.

As a youngster, my future was bright,
I would often go out Friday night,
Drinking nowt in particular,
I’d end up perpendicular,
Just as well, had 2 days to get right!


Do any of you remember I posted about my eye at christmas? How my vision through that eye went super-blurry?

It was difficult to quantify it because my vision is not perfect anyway. But I wrote a couple of posts over christmas when I was very spooked – it felt like the beginning of the end.

Since then, I didn’t write about it, not because it got better, more because I figured that people don’t want to listen to somebody whining all the time. And, in the couple of months since then, I’ve kinda learned to live with it.

On Saturday, I took a short afternoon nap, and as soon as I opened my eyes again everything just “felt” clearer.

Again, difficult to quantify because my eyes are damaged anyway. But at Christmas I downloaded an Eye Chart just to start keeping tabs, I’d made a mental note to look at it every month or so, and I was indeed seeing better than the last time.

Throughout the whole time, I didn’t seek medical attention. There was just too much COVID going on at the moment to feel safe anywhere near a hospital. But it looks like whatever happened has gone some way toward healing itself.

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