She put a hand to the back of the chair and pulled it out slowly, just enough so she could ease herself down. She was a little bit dazed; “perhaps it’s the heat” she thought. Yesterday’s paper said it was the hottest August in 20 years and today was surely the worst. Little beads of sweat kept tapping at her forehead and she pulled out the freshly pressed tea towel from the band of her apron and wiped at her face.
“Well, what a day, I’ll just take the weight off my feet for a bit” she said more to herself than out loud, but she couldn’t stop her fingers from skimming the table top picking up a few stray crumbs scattered across the polished mahogany. She was a bit out of sorts and couldn’t think why. Cotton wool brains her husband used to say and he knew everything so it must be right. She definitely felt a bit fluffy round the edges. Her neck crooked slightly as she spotted the glass bevelled fruit bowl slightly off centre. She reached across and moved it back, just a touch. Everything just so. He liked everything just so.
She looked at the half empty supper plate sitting across the table. The cutlery set at quarter to three, “tut tut, that won’t do” she grumbled lifting her body up from the chair and reaching across to rearrange the knife and fork to a neat six o clock. He liked things neat. He liked his slippers to be warmed and neatly arranged by the radiator in the hall. He liked his paper neatly folded and laid by the door. He liked his tea on the table when he got home from work. He liked his glass of tepid water neatly half-filled and he liked the food on his plate to be neatly placed. But he really hadn’t liked that his peas touched his steak!
So she’d followed his lead and hit his head neatly. The large iron griddle had done a really good job. Today was the day when his power had gone…….