Tag Archives: wallet

1496. Averill’s late husband’s wallet

Averill was described as “a petite little thing” but she had a will of steel. Once something got into her head there was no letting go. It was this bloody-mindedness that made her determined to find her late husband’s wallet.

She had gone through all the cupboards, all the drawers, even the laundry pile. She had looked under the seats in the car. She looked beneath the furniture and down the back of the sofa cushions. All to no avail.

It was now almost fourteen years since her husband had passed away. She had long forgotten about the wallet.

And then she remembered; for no reason at all she remembered. The wallet was in the back pocket of his trousers. He would still have them on. He was wearing them when she had shoved his body into the freezer after she shot him.

Poem 46: I think I left my wallet

(The poetic form selected for this week is the French triolet).

I think I left my wallet underneath a bed.
I wish I could remember whose bed belongs to who.
Was it Cynthia’s or Brenda’s? Jill’s or even Fred’s?
I think I left my wallet underneath a bed.
Meg’s perhaps or Elsie’s? Jane’s or Winifred’s?
I really hope it’s Moira’s; I liked the kitschy-coo.
I think I left my wallet underneath a bed.
I wish I could remember whose bed belongs to who.

640. Hot shopping

© Bruce Goodman 12 July 2015

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It was one of those hot, hot, sticky summer days. Wade sat in his living room in front of an electric fan taking turns holding up one armpit after the other in an effort to cool off. He still had the grocery shopping to do, so eventually he bit the bullet and off he went.

Wade always kept his wallet in his trouser pocket, so he didn’t even bother to check to make sure it was there.

At the supermarket he followed his grocery list and got most things, and at least the shop was a bit cooler thanks to air conditioning. Then he thought (it wasn’t on his list but he thought it would be a good idea) he’d buy a couple of bottles of cold cordial drink or something, but he couldn’t find any that were cold. They all seemed to be in the normal shelves. So he asked a shop assistant where the cold drinks in the fridge were, and she said I thought you were going to ask me where the condoms were.

What a stupid idiot, thought Wade. I might be heading for forty and look about thirty, and am not that bad looking overall, but that proposition on a hot day came from nowhere. Quite frankly it pissed him off. So he said “Ho! Ho! Ho!” like he was Santa Claus or someone, and she eventually told him where the cold drinks were.

Then he went out through the cashier, and went to pay for all his stuff but his wallet wasn’t in his pocket.

In fact it might have been in his pocket, but he’d forgotten to put on his trousers.