Wednesday's Words on a Friday
On Wednesdays, Delores, from Under The Porch Light, has a word challenge meme which she calls “Words for Wednesday”.
She puts up a selection of six words which we then use in a short story, or a poem.
I’m hopeless at poetry so I always do a story.
It’s a fun challenge…why not join in?
This week's words are:
and/or: "grungy, grotty globs of goo" I left my (true story) contribution to this phrase in Delores' comment section.
Here is my story:
I thought about getting another deadbolt installed on the front door, three didn't seem to be enough. The back door had newly installed ceiling and floor bolts, perhaps I should get those on the front door instead.
I'd speak to the security people tomorrow.
I'd had the windows wired yesterday, anyone trying to get in that way would be met by screeching alarms and the speedy arrival of the police.
I'd declared a moratorium on the ex and any of his mates just barging in any old time as if they owned the place.
They didn't of course, I'd inherited this house from my grandparents.
But Antony hadn't listened to my ban and since he still had his keys and refused to hand them over, he and the sleazy low-life mates, Raffles (Richard) and Buster (Brian) waltzed in to raid the fridge and pantry whenever they pleased, day or night, as well as leaving both bathrooms a soggy mess of wet towels and splattered soap. I hoped the new locks would take care of that.
Those two had managed to coerce weak-willed Ant into a life of petty crime and in a flash of inspiration, I'd divorced him after bailing him out of jail for the third time this year.
The three of them were wasteful spendthrifts, every ill-gotten dollar disappearing almost as fast as they'd acquired it.
Hence the raiding of my grocery supply two or three times a month.
Most of the emergency money I'd managed to squirrel away while married to Antony was now gone, having paid for his latest bail bond and the new deadbolts. I rather hoped their next foray into criminal activity would see all three of them sentenced to jail, bail denied.
I scooped a stack of miscellaneous receipts off the kitchen counter and locked them in the desk, then set about unpacking and storing my groceries.
When I was finished, I glanced around at my immaculate kitchen and living room, satisfied they would stay that way now that Ant, Raffles and Buster could no longer get in.