Collection of Short Stories

Silence

She straightened her skirt as she sat down on the plush sofa and looked out the window into the night sky, gently lit by the stars millions of miles away. The houses opposite were brightly lit up by the dazzling electric ceiling lights and the cars rolled towards the end of the street. She warmed her hands on the heater, thawing them, remembering the times when they had none of this. The only source of light was the lamps placed around the house. The only way to travel was by walking or cycling and the only source of heat was a blanket.  

Charlotte stared out the window as she thought about how different things were now. She heard her husband working away in the kitchen, whistling a short tune while preparing dinner. Once again, she couldn't believe how much things had changed over time. Less than 20 years ago, she would have been the one in the kitchen, unhappy, yet cooking because it was just the way it was. The woman of the house was always expected to be doing jobs around the house while their husband was at work. That's how society worked. Now it wouldn't be a shock to see a woman working, surrounded by men working away behind a desk or using their hands to construct something.  

Charlotte glanced over at the photograph placed on top of the television, colour bursting out of its frame. Her husband and her together. She wore a yellow summer dress, her long golden brown hair cascading down her shoulders while a straw hat lay over her head. Her face was bursting with happiness. She was looking at her husband who was in a colourful Hawaiian shirt. His dark brown hair was swept over to one side by the wind. His eyes focussed on her face. She remembered that day like it was yesterday. The sun shining on them as they had their annual picnic in the park and the laughing of children heard around them.  

Charlotte glanced over at the black and white photograph next to it. The woman in the photograph held an image of youth. Her long hair curled towards the end framing her petite, excited face. Her long white wedding dress, sequins strategically placed around the elegant skirt and a long train extended from the skirt curling around her feet and settling in front of her like a cat settles at the feet of their owner.  

That excitement and youthfulness had disappeared. Charlotte looked away from the photograph and towards the dull carpet as she heard the silver kettle whistle angrily in the kitchen.  

"Charlotte! Dinner's ready," she heard her husband, Harry, call out behind her. She turned around to see her husband.  

"Ok. I'm coming," she said before gracefully standing up, smoothing down her skirt and making her way over to the carefully laid out dining table. She took a seat at the large table and her husband took the seat next to her. A bottle of red wine was placed in the middle of table and two tall glasses full of red wine were placed next to it. She reached for one as her husband reached for the other one.  

They ate in silence as their lack of words settled over them like a thick mist. The dismal chime of the grandfather clock in the hallway could be heard as they slowly cut away at the succulent meat and vegetables.  

Charlotte looked up at her husband's face. His slightly grey wispy hair framed his pale face and his hazel eyes stared intently at his plate in front of him. Once they had finished eating, they sat quietly sipping at their wine. The bottle of wine, now half empty, they made their way over to the sofa, having done so for the last few weeks. Sitting down they sat there thinking to themselves.  

She couldn't help but think about how this had all become a routine of sorts. They seemed to be going in circles but sooner or later they'd get dizzy.  

They sat in silence, a cloud of tension resting above them. The happy moments were now distant memories and those of tension and sadness were a constant occurrence. Charlotte looked up as she felt the sofa rise. Harry walked upstairs silently. No good night. No "I love you". No kiss. It was as if she didn't exist, like she was invisible. She sat there, still staring at the spot Harry had occupied. 

Charlotte could hear him murmuring to himself as he made his way to their room, where instead of one bed, there was two. Making up her mind, she got up, smoothed down her skirt once again and turned towards the door. Unsure of where she was going or what she was doing, she took a step towards the door. Opening it, she took a step out to nowhere in particular.  

"Things are different now." She said to herself. It was true, thing were different now.