Fourteen Days

Richard was sitting in the living room, staring at the clock. It read 4:49 p.m. He had almost finished his magazine and had considered starting another one, but gave up on the idea when his eyes began to ache. He longed for Nicky to return home. Boredom and loneliness had well and truly consumed him, and he needed a distraction to draw him away from the telephone.

Watching the clock, he played with his cell phone, deleting unwanted numbers. He couldn’t quite believe how many pointless numbers he had saved over the years, and how many he had no idea who they belonged to. Almost at the end of the list, the sound of the front door opening distracted him from his task. Finally. He dropped the phone onto the couch and left the living room to greet his wife.

The hallway was deserted.

“Nic?” he called out, frowning in bewilderment. He walked to the front door and tried to open it, only to find it locked. “Nic?” he called out again, this time directing his cry upstairs. There was no response. Standing in confusion, he stared at the front door.

He looked at the cream-painted wall separating him and his neighbor, Ilene. Cardboard walls.

He then retreated back to the couch in the living room. Picking up his cell phone, he began texting one of his college friends, Simon, to fill him in on the events of Monday. He knew he wouldn’t get an instant response due to Simon’s driving job, but there was always a chance, always hope that he was on a break, or finished early. As the text message disappeared across the airwaves, he stared at his phone’s home-screen, waiting for that faithful beep sound. Nothing. Giving up on Simon, he scrolled through the list of other friends. Selecting Neil, he sent the exact same message, and just like Simon, there was no reply.

Is everyone working but me? Am I the only one left in the world? Has the apocalypse come and taken everyone?

He sat in silence, waiting for someone to call or text, but all he could hear was the sound of the clock ticking on the mantelpiece. As the minutes of emptiness rolled on, the ticking got louder. And louder. Until he felt like smashing it into a million pieces.

The noise of the front door opening startled him. He got up from the couch and stepped back into the hallway. Nicky was standing holding a stack of heavy folders against her chest. “Give us a hand,” she said. “They weigh a ton.”

“Did you just come through the front door a minute ago, and then back out again?” he asked, taking the folders from her.

She hung her bag over the banister and dropped Richard’s car keys on the stairs. “No. I just got here. You asked me that yesterday.”

“I know I did, but I was sure I heard you come home.”

“I told you, it’s these walls, they’re wafer thin. It must’ve been next door.”

“I know. Like bloody cardboard.” He walked over to her and kissed her cheek. “Anyway, how was work?”

She started to walk into the kitchen, with Richard following. “Good. It was Lisa’s birthday, so we had a little party for her. I’ve eaten so much cake today, I’m going on a diet tomorrow.”

“You don’t need to go on a diet, you look fine.”

“Yes I do need a diet—I’m fat.”

He shook his head in astonishment. “Are you serious? You’ve got a perfect body.”

Smiling, she flicked the switch on the kettle. “Thanks babe, but I’m still going on a diet.” She pulled out two cups from the cupboard. “So, did you manage to find my car keys?”

“Yeah.”

Her face lit up. “Oh, brilliant. Where were they?”

“On the stairs.”

Frowning, she scooped a spoonful of instant coffee powder into one of the cups. “That’s weird. Are you sure? I looked there.”

“Course I’m sure. They were just there. I found them straightaway.”

She seemed puzzled, but shook it off. “Oh well, doesn’t matter now.” She began to pour the boiling water into the cups. “So how was your day, babe?”

He paused for a moment before answering. “Exhilarating.”



Watching the television mounted on the bedroom wall, Richard struggled to stay awake. Nicky’s eyes were half-shut as she lay beside him, on her side, facing him. “How long are you going to keep that thing on for?” Nicky asked. The quilt was pulled high up to her neck, her arm buried underneath her pillow.

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