A hidden message

M emailed this morning and told me to check out Ficlets.  So I clicked through, saw that a story he had written was on the “most recent” stories list, and off I went to read it.  What I got was this…

Paul stared out the window of his 27th floor office. What a fucking mess, he thought. He wasn’t sure how it came to this, but he knew that he was in deep. Too deep.

He stepped up on the A/C register and stared down at Lexington Avenue.

Fuck. How do I explain this to Carol?

He thought back to his kids and the time they were on the boat fishing and he fell in the water as he tried to gaff the Tuna on board. Nothing hurt but his pride and they all had a good laugh. No one’s laughing now.

He reached out to the handle that opened the window, turned it and pushed it opened. The sounds of the city below hit him like a jackhammer. Thank God for older buildings. He looked down at the street once more and got ready.

Hmmm.  Is he planning on jumping out a window?  Is he trying to kill off his best friend?  What can’t he explain to me????  So of course I panic and speed dial my husband, who seems a bit confused as to why I might be a tad concerned about his well being and the state of our marriage.  After a few promises that I wasn’t going to be the feature story on the 10 o’clock news, or the topic of an upcoming “Ripped from the headlines” Law and Order, and that he hadn’t lost all our money and wasn’t having an affair, I hung up the phone and began to expore the site a bit more.

As long as your husband isn’t trying to send you hidden messages through his “fictional” writing, it is a rather cool concept.  Go check it out.  And please, write me a happy ending, OK?



  1. Lol!

  2. I am off to check it out. Hope it is fictional. I like fiction. LOL

  3. This would have me making the same phone call.

  4. Eeek. Thank goodness my hubby can’t write (well, he can *write* but not like, real writing).

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