Written for the 2015 challenge at picfor1000
in response to this picture prompt.BROKEN SHARD
© Clare London, 2015
Leanne hissed “cheating bastard!” at me as we lurched across the lobby of the hotel. Her eyeliner was smudged with angry tears, making her look like a manic panda. We’d had far too much to drink, and had been arguing for hours. This reconciliation weekend had been a bloody stupid idea. I’d be out of this crap relationship as soon as we sorted out a fair split of assets, what little we’d gathered in less than a year. There was still plenty of time for us both to make a new life.
Two people already in the lift shifted round to let us in. The woman wearing a tightly belted black raincoat was thin and very pale, her face pinched like she was in the path of a high wind. The bloke, on the other hand, was a huge onion bulb of a man, in a business suit that strained at every seam. We all nodded at each other, then dropped our eyes. The man put a pudgy finger to the floors we needed, and the doors slid shut. With a hiccup and a wheeze, the lift started upward.
The walls were mirrored. Bloody stupid design. From certain angles, all you see is yourself, duplicated a million times, stretching into the distance like an inverted telescope. The ceiling was covered in crimson flocked wallpaper, and the angle of the lights sent dark red reflections across all the surfaces, including our faces. Me, Leanne, Pinch-Penny and Onion-Man.
The overhead light flickered.It’s broken.
“What did you say?” Leanne hissed in my ear.
“Yes you did.”
“Someone said, it’s broken.”
“What is? I never touched anything.”
“For God’s sake,” Leanne muttered.
broken!” Pinch-Penny’s voice was too high, her face twisted with distress.
“Sorry?” I said.( Collapse )