An attempt to produce a poem or story from now until the end of April (except Sundays).
The theme for the 2022 A to Z Challenge is the human condition.
Also includes the Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt: nose, noes or knows
Jenny rang the bell, half hoping there would be no answer, but the door swung open.
“Come in, my dear,” a soft voice called. “There is nothing for you to fear.”
“Thank you,” gulped Jenny, stepping into a dark hallway. “Um, where do you want me?”
“Take the seat at the bottom of the stairs. I’ll be with you shortly.”
She resisted the urge to run away and sat down on a wooden chair. Just as she was losing her nerve, a light came on, and there stood Griselda, dressed in jeans and a Hello Kitty sweatshirt. Her hair was swept up into a neat ponytail, and she wore a pair of glasses on a chain around her neck.
“Am I a disappointment to you?”
“No!” Jenny lied, then blushed. “I guess you’re not what I expected.”
“And neither are you,” retorted Griselda. “I thought you would be older. Most of my clients are.”
Jenny swallowed her own retort. She’d been warned not to get mouthy or silly. Not if she wanted Griselda’s help. “You come highly recommended, and I’m at my wit’s end. If you can’t work your magic, my marriage will be over.”
“Things are never as bad as they seem,” Griselda reassured her. “Tell me your problems.”
“My husband is so annoying. Every time I ask him to do something, it’s always later, babes, or I’ll do it tomorrow.”
“And what do you expect me to do about it?”
“You stopped Milly’s husband, Simon, from sleeping around. And you worked a miracle on Liz. Brad says she never nags him anymore.”
“I can change his behaviour, or teach him a lesson, it’s up to you?”
Jenny thought about Simon, who was still in a coma, and suppressed a shudder at Liz’s drastic surgery. “I’ll go for the lesson.”
“Leave him to me.” Griselda pulled a tiny vial out of her pocket. “Get him to drink this. Call me the moment he falls asleep, and I will come and collect him.”
“Do I want to know what’s in this?” Jenny stuffed the bottle into her handbag.
“I doubt it. I’ll telephone you when he’s ready to come home.
“When is that likely to be?”
“Depends how quick a learner he is.”
“Where am I?” A confused male voice floated up from the pit in the cellar. “I can’t see a thing. Jen, are you there?”
“Jen’s not here, only me.”
“Who the hell are you?”
“Your worst nightmare.”
“This isn’t funny. Whoever you are, the game’s over. I demand you let me out right now!”
“Can’t babes, maybe tomorrow.”