Looking for the Shovel

Her usual habit was to ignore the phone and then check the messages later. For some inexplicable reason Lu answered, “Hello?” The anonymous voice inquired, “May I speak to Aurora Dupin, please?” It was less a question and more a request that the caller assumed would be granted. “No!” screamed Lu. The fury of her reaction startled her. She realized that she was standing and shaking and her hands were balled into tight fists. Her phone was on the other side of the room and she could see the screen was cracked. She had never done anything like that before. Sitting down hard, she pondered her next move. Staring at the phone she dared it to ring again. Standing up she marched to the kitchen. She reasoned that she would need a good meal to fuel her while accomplishing the next tasks. She made an omelet and took out her rage on the eggs whipping them until they frothed. Even the toast was not safe as she savagely buttered each slice. With a ferocity normally seen only on the savanna in Africa, Lu tore into her food. Uncharacteristically she left the dirty dishes on the table as she headed to the garage. It took her awhile to locate the shovel. She hadn’t used it since moving in when she planted the privacy fence made of climbing roses and raspberry bushes. Next to the house, just under the trellis, she started digging. Even with the outside light on it was hard to see. The ground was frozen but she persisted, working up a sweat. She labored until she had managed a hole nearly 3 feet deep but not very large. Leaning the shovel against the house she stomped back to retrieve Mister from the garage.

I have to apologize to everyone for Mister’s demise. I promised my mother several stories ago that I wouldn’t “kill off” any of the main characters as I was planning mayhem. No one died that time. This time was different…

13 thoughts on “Looking for the Shovel

  1. I like how ordinary events like making a good breakfast because you have a big ordeal coming up seem right on task. I can picture this easily. Why it just happened the other day as I was dreading the beginning of the day and walking three dogs.

    Like

  2. Death is part of life. My story has death written into it. My female main character parents died when she was 18. Death came into my life at 17 when my dad died and years following when my grandparents died.

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s