“Darling, turn it off please.”
“But they’ve only just started the race. Look at how they’re all gaining speed. It’s magnificent!”
“The guests are here. They’re waiting in the living room. Please come over.”
“…and the corner. Look how they race around that corner! All that power and they still manage to stay on track!”
“They’ve come to see you. I’ve got your birthday cake all ready. You can’t just leave them alone on your own party!”
“Look at that yellow-black car – that’s Nelson there, in the lead now!”
“Darling, I don’t want to keep them waiting!”
“He’s a skinny lad, really tall and young! Did you know he was in his early twenties? Isn’t that young?”
The TV went blank. He looked up at her in a sour expression.
“You can’t turn off the TV that I bought!”
She stood there, remote in her right hand, fuming. “Come to the living room. You’ve got a birthday to celebrate.”
He grunted. “I never invited them.” Then he sighed and dragged himself up, stretching exaggeratedly. “Fine, fine, I’m coming already.”
He gave the TV one last sad look, muttered “Nelson’s too bloody young to win”, then followed his wife into the living room.
Sunday Photo Fiction, May 1st 2016
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