A piece of short fiction inspired by, but not actually using, the word TARDY from Your Daily Word Prompt.
Gone ten, I should be at my desk by nine. Right, I’ll leave the dishes and forget about the laundry. But this room is thick with dust, and there are biscuit crumbs everywhere.
Eleven o’clock! How did that happen? Time to sit down and finish chapter two. Do not check emails. Ignore Twitter and the cute cat gifs. And on no account go anywhere near Facebook.
Lunchtime, already. I could eat a quick sandwich in the kitchen, but I’m out of bread, and they do all-day breakfasts at the café on Thursdays.
Oh my, it’s gone two, but I needed that break; this story is a pain to write. I don’t know enough about budgerigars. Maybe I should google them.
That was interesting, but perhaps a parrot will make a better plot device.
Four o’clock, the kids will be home from school soon and I have nothing for their tea. They’ll have to make do with takeaway pizza, again. I’ll do a couple of hours after they go to bed.
Nearly midnight, but there were only two episodes of Poirot left to watch. And I had to know who did it!
I am so tired now, I think I’ll go to bed and start afresh tomorrow.