Backhand Stories: The Creative Writing Blog

She sipped at her coffee. Black. No sugar. Sour. Lipstick mark: Red; Number 58 – Dark Wine. The taste barely registered. A creak in the floorboards: her husbands’ feet. Size nine shoes. Black. Heavily polished. Tightly laced.

“How long have you been up?” She stared through the blinds. The scent of her perfume filled his nostrils: Nina by Nina Ricci. Light. Two sprays.

“You can’t leave” He straightened his tie: Two tone. Black on silver. Soft sheen; Next Department store. “There’s too much snow. They’ve closed the roads” He untied the knot – perfect Windsor – and laid the tie down on the kitchen table. He put his hand to his face. Clean-shaven. Fresh. Aftershave: Calvin Klein. Three Sprays. He leaned on the counter.

“Why are your bags packed?”