July 2022: A Short Sweet Time - Susan Hutton
Clouds crowded in, jostling across the darkening sky.
“We’ll see no stars tonight, might as well be home.” Jack and his dog Clinker walked back down the hill, a chill wind and light rain at their backs. Seeds from the long grass stuck to his jeans and the dog’s coat. The house Jack called home sat alone, aside from the town, fenced off. Its windows shone like rose gold reflecting the last light from the sun so low in the sky.
Jack was happy enough. Ten years since his partner died. Five years since he lost his job. He was sober now most days, grew his own vegetables and had a good online business up and running; working from home. Even back in contact with a few old friends, by email.
Left behind on the veranda his phone had collected a few missed calls from Green’s Possum Removal. The message said they’d be there 8 am tomorrow. He was uncertain about having the possum removed from the roof, but the woman’s sing song voice somehow lulled his apprehension. Too late now to call and cancel.
Overnight the rain fell heavily, muddying his field of thoughts washing over the dam wall running riot. Branches broke.
She was at the door earlier than arranged, in yellow overalls, hair pulled up tight and tidy. Before she entered he quickly announced:
“I’ve changed my mind about the possum, sorry.”
“Well, you can make me a coffee now I’m here.”
What could he say? He filled the jug, offered toast which was accepted whole-heartedly.
“Got any jam?”
“Yes.”
“To tell the truth I’m relieved about the possum. You called a wrong number and I just thought well I’ll have a go at that. I had a pet possum when I was a kid.” She smiled as if that was all perfectly acceptable, ate the toast and asked for another slice scrapping the last of the jam from the bottle. “You’ve got a good crop of strawberries. I’ll take some with me if you like, and make some more jam, it’ll be nicer than this I promise”.
A week later she turned up again with three bottles of jam, the overalls replaced by an old rope petticoat dyed with marigolds and a black silk shirt. Dancing about in ballet shoes singing some roughly hewn song about being a bumble bee. On her third visit she brought her suitcases and boxes and stayed a whole year.
…
One of the best years of my life.
A year was probably all I could take of my queen bee buzzing about, it was all she could give me anyhow. The possum is still in the roof and I still have a good supply of jams and preserves.
These days, walking home when the sun is low in the sky, the windows are the colour of honey. And I smile every time.
“A short sweet time of it we had, didn't we, Clinker.”
#RightLeftWrite’s July competition was guest judged by award-winning Australian romance author (and Queensland Writers Centre member) Ally Blake. Ally has sold over four million copies of her more than forty published novels. An ambassador for romantic literature and Australian voices, she has spoken at multiple writing conferences and literary festivals around Australia.
August’s competition is open now - genre prompt: Mystery. Submissions of short fiction (max. 500 words) close at the end of the month - submit your entry.
Right Left Write’s July genre prompt was Romance.