Sorry, meant to post this sooner.

Found

It was recessed in the sofa. In a "sun-don't-shine spot", her husband would say. She'd always been small up there, her "fun-ions", he'd call them. The label confirmed what she'd instantly known.

Her throat tightened painfully. She stumbled outside to take in the night air.

Two weeks with the kids in the country, so he could "gitter done" - that long-gestating project. With the lab partner she'd never met.

She cried for hours, falling asleep on his side of the bed.

In the morning, he was there. Back "from the lab", he claimed, in the wee hours.

She said nothing.

(ETA: changed "chest" to "throat" - Thanks Beverly!)

Nice one, Wolfram.

Thanks. These are fun.

Completely off the cuff, and man is 100 words small today.

---

She adjusts the tablecloth, waits for a knock. Mr. Greaves is on his way, always here at half three like clockwork.

A quick glance in the mirror, final preparation. Her hair loose, a little kohl at the corners of her eyes. The Greek-like tunic isn’t terribly authentic, but no one notices. Maybe next she could try soothsaying. People like variety, after all.

Tap tap, and she schools her face to a droop-eyed look of languor before turning the knob. Greaves is waiting, anxious to “speak” with his wife. She feels a fleeting pang of guilt before she invites him in.

Nice!

I was wondering if anyone would use that meaning.

Hey! I was going to do a "medium" medium!

That's awesome, Ailleann. The tone is so perfect.

Beat me to it, too, Ailleann. Although I had one I thought might put a nice twist on it. We'll see if I take the time to actually put it down on paper to see if it works.

Go for it, Sail! You too Amy!

Good ones. I have a (not on-topic) Dr Who/Endless drabble in Fanfic. Typo Boy "Fan Fiction II: Great story! Where's the sequel?" May 22, 2008 7:57:23 am PDT

“It won’t work this way.”
“Why not, it…why not?”
“This is…I don’t know, the idea, it’s not visual, maybe…?”
“Okay, but, …what, are you gonna write it longhand, or…?"
“No…I don’t know, I can’t see it.”
“So…but the guy wants this …I mean, you know, we work in visuals…”
"You work in visuals. I work in ideas.”
“Oh, nice, very pretentious. But until you can communicate your ideas to an audience telepathically…”
“…heh, maybe by osmosis…”
“Shut up and…you need a pen?”
“Yeah, just…maybe a rock album?”
“…seriously?”
“Stupid?”
“Put down the beer. Get out.”