Silent bricks

Silence. Yet another day of hope, another day to clean the counter-tops, the tables and the windows. Eileen wanted it perfect when Mike returned. She touched her wedding-band and noticed that her fingers had thickened since he proposed to her.

‘Just another week’, he said.

But weeks turned to years, and with bricks of silence she built their house, upon the bones of failed fidelity. Memories can be tricky but in the darkness of the night she recalled why her perfect kitchen lacked a meat-cleaver, and how she learned to mix concrete.

‘Just another week’.

It’s been a while since we had an empty kitchen in Friday Fictioneers, and I always felt that there are bodies behind the floorboards somewhere. Since Rochelle run this as a rerun, I really went back to the type of stories I used to write back then and see what I could do.

June 10, 2015

98 responses to “Silent bricks

  1. Haha. Deliciously twisted. Spend too much time away from home – and surely there is a reason, and reasons become motives & meatcleavers. Lol.

  2. Sounds like the marriage didn’t work out like she hoped, but at least she can start a new career in masonry. I suppose she can offer her services to other unhappy spouses—Have Meat Cleaver Will Travel.

  3. Is Jimmy Hoffa in there also ??

    For those outside the USA, Jim Hoffa was an American labor union leader who disappeared in the mid-1970’s and is believed to have been murdered. Never founded, it is rumored he is buried in a concrete foundation of a sport stadium somewhere.

  4. Oh well – this is fairly gruesome, and not what I was expecting. I like the silent bricks imagery a lot.
    And to think, as I first began reading, I’d thought you and I had headed down the same path this week.

  5. Wow Bjorn, Good story and creepy. I still have my meat cleaver and I do know how to lay bricks too. Fun but messy! Really, really good! Nan

  6. I love that twist at the end. There was me feeling sorry for her, and then rather fearful for Mike. I found myself inwardly shouting, “Stay away, though you’re a swine.” (unintended pun there, what with the meat cleaver!)

I try to reciprocate all comments. If you want me to visit a particular post, please direct me directly to that post.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.