Horray! Congrats Nicole, @nicolewolverton for another 5MinuteFiction win. It makes sense that she would win the last one this year because she won so many throughout 2011. She’s a truly talented writer and I’m so happy so have here with us at 5MinuteFiction.
“Jimmy,” she muttered. “Where you greeting in your sleep again? I swear you bruised me from here to Friday.”
Silence greeted her, and when she groaned and rolled over, the bed lay empty. The very air missed the scent of her husband of ten years: chewing tobacco and armpit sweat. Sniffing deep, she bolted upright. His hunting rifle was missing from the corner. No stained underwear drooped off the rickety chair by the bureau.
What was this — new year, new Jimmy? Had he cleaned?
She scurried into the bathroom. Gone was the ratty stuffed deer head hanging above the commode. She glanced into the toilet. Lid down, flushed. Her eyebrows caterpillared up her forehead.
The living room was neater and cleaner than her own dear mother’s house. No cigarette ash burns in the couch. No half-eaten sandwiches attracting ants on the counter in the kitchen.
Now she was worried.
She whirled to find a man of twenty striking a pose behind her in the hallway, a thin pair of pajamas accentuating a perfect body. His full head of brown hair and bright blue eyes weren’t anything like Jimmy’s bald and scaly head and bloodshot eyeballs.
Edna considered screaming but rethought it right quick. “What’s your name, sugar?”
“Jimmy Butterfield, sweet girl. Now what can I make you for breakfast?”
Her knees buckled, sending her to the couch. The last thing she remembered from the night before was making a wish: “No more dead weight in 2012.”
Eyes widening, she whispered, “Well, ain’t that a miracle?”