Well she’s pulled it off with a amusing story about a guy who, well, isn’t like a lot of guys you meet, is he? šŸ˜‰ (Not that I’m saying anything about you fine gentlemen around here.)

So congratulations toĀ Tauisha Nicole @shells2003, for her 5MinuteFiction win! She gets a copy of the new bookĀ The Worker Prince by our guest judgeĀ Bryan Thomas Schmidt, @BryanThomasS!

Here’s her entry again for you to enjoy. See you all next week!

Darci stretched her arms over her head when she awoke that morning. She rolled her hands over her freshly braided hair and sighed. Why on earth did Jamal think it okay to braid her hair, anyway? She never asked him for it.

Sighing, she showered, brushed her teeth and headed for the closet only rapped in a towel. Mentally, she was imagining the black pencil skirt and red silk blouse she wanted to wear to work that morning. Physically, thoughā€¦her closet was empty.

Wellā€¦not completely.

There was a gorgeous pale orange pantsuit complete with ivory shirt, pumps and accessories. And a note. Frowning, she picked it up. Her frown only increased after reading the message:

Dear Darci,
The washer in the building is down, so I took all our clothes over to our other house to clean them. This outfit will have to do for the day. See you later, honey.

Your husband
Jamal

And he had the nerve to write a smiley face after the word husband.

She sighed. If only heā€™d sign those annulment papers, he wouldnā€™t have to do anything for her. Please, he still doesnā€™t have to. And what on earth does he mean, their other home? He needs to go back there and stay there, far away from her!

Muttering to herself, yet enjoying the new threads, she went into the kitchen just to grab a danish and run. Instead her donuts were goneā€¦which made no sense! She just bought them yesterday! Just bought them! Instead, she seeā€™s a plate with cut up fruit, two slices of toast, and an omelette. Oh. And a note:

Dear Darci,
You need to take better care of yourself. Enjoy a breakfast of champs!

Your loving husband
Jamal

ā€œWhat on earth!ā€ she yelled.

Sighed.

And ate breakfast.

Jamal was taking things way too far. Grumbling on her way to the landlordā€™s office, she wanted to drop off her check for rent and head on to work. When he came to the door, he smiled. ā€œHey, Darci! You never told me you were getting married! Congratulations!ā€

She put on a smile she really didnā€™t feel. ā€œThanks, Mr. Gordon. Hey, I just wanted to drop off your rent.ā€

He frowned. ā€œRent? Your husband paid you up for the next six months. Didnā€™t he tell you?ā€

Heā€¦didā€¦what?

Still in shock, she went into her car and started it. Well, thereā€™s one thing she could still do for herself. She had to go to the gas station andā€¦

Sighing she rested her head on the steering wheel. Not anymore. She didnā€™t need a note from her husband to know why the needle pointed to F instead of E.

Thereā€™s nothing wrong with a nice goose to lay a great egg for you, but she wasnā€™t feeling the goose. She wasnā€™t feeling him at all.