Stood Up

Gregory arrived at 3 minutes past the hour, just late enough to make her wonder. He rang the doorbell and waited.

Nothing.

He knocked on the door. He envisioned holding her pale hands with the shiny crimson fingernails. Gregory wondered about women who dressed modestly, yet their fingernails shone like fire engines. What secret was trying to bleed its way out of her?

Grandmother Murray peered out the curtained window. “Are you looking for Jane? She left to visit her brother. About an hour ago, I’d say.”

Gregory checked his calendar. He was three hours and four minutes late.


This is this week’s submission to the Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction Challenge.  The challenge is all about an expectation met or missed.

 

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