“It’s a conspiracy! Can’t you see it?”
She walked away from the table, clenching her fists so tight it looked as though her nails would stab through her palms and emerge out the other side.
Smirking, Hubert returned to his coffee, and quickly summoned a more serious disposition as Haley whipped around and glared.
“Stop looking so smug,” she snapped. “If this new bush dies, the conspiracy has been confirmed. It’ll be the sixth bloody time! You won’t be able to deny it any longer.”
Haley stalked out of the house, slamming the door behind her so hard the house trembled, and Hubert took a long, comforting slurp of his morning miracle mead, relishing both the warmth of the elixir and the loud squeal of the car as it pealed away.
The woman was mad because her bushes kept dying. First she blamed the nextdoor neighbours, the Gully’s, then she blamed the other-side neighbours, the Crawfords, and then she declared the entire street to be in cahoots against her attempts at beautification.
Truth was, the fucking things were ugly. *He* was the one poisoning the damned scraggly bushes.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
“Pumpkins can grow everywhere,” Haley cried, her shrill tones as piercing as her mother’s tongue. “That is not what I want to discuss with you.”
Hubert blinked, looked down at his coffee, then looked back up at his wife. Where the hell had she come from? Hadn’t she just driven off back to the nursery to pick up another damned bush?
Moistening his lips, he folded his hands beneath his chin and leaned upon his fingertips.
“That so, honey? Please tell me you ain’t growin’ pumpkins now. They’ll spread everywhere and-…”
“Quiet! We will not discuss this. The decision is final.”
She sidled into the chair beside him and lay a hand upon his knee. A cold hand. An icy hand. Come to think of it, she seemed a bit paler than normal, and her skin wasn’t as soft as it used to be.
“Now, sweetie,” she fluttered her eyelashes. “Could you come downstairs with me for just a moment?”
There was a seductive tone to her voice, a tone that starkly contrasted the shrill screech of mere moments ago, but her eyes… as her eyelashes fluttered, it looked as though her eyes blinked sideways.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Hubert swallowed and glanced down at his wrist, but the watch was broken. The clock above the microwave had stopped. Hell, even the clock on the microwave had stopped. Time, though certain to still be ticking, was no longer ticking in this house.
Haley’s eyes blinked sideways again and her scaly hand tightened, gripping into his knee. How long had his wife been a reptilian for? How could he never have realised this? She did have a preference for insect flour… it was full of protein, she had said, it’s better for the environment, she had declared. Lies. She was a damned lizard person.
“Hon, I can’t accompany you with your hand squeezing my kneecap like a giant pimple.”
She squeezed again and Hubert flinched, releasing an inward sigh of relief as she climbed up from the seat and beckoned over her shoulder. Fuck. She had sprouted a tail.
His eyes darted around the kitchen and settled upon the empty ceramic mug that had once been filled with coffee goodness. There was one chance. And only one. If he didn’t get her square in the noggin, he was as doomed as those damned bushes.
Took forever to find an image for this, then even longer to give it a title! But, the image used for my header is a CC0 image courtesy of Pixabay!
And I thank you for reading! 😀