That’s Terrible

Carol ran into the guest bathroom, not bothering to shut the door as no one else was home. She could feel the trickle about to descend at the prospect of relief.

“Shoo. Just in time.”

But it didn’t end there. Last night’s curry struck with a vengeance as sharp as its bite. She took her phone from her bag that she’d dumped on the floor and checked her messages until her stomach settled.

“Aaaaargh! This bloody family. I don’t know how many times I’ve spoken to them, but I might as well talk to the walls. They’d hear more than this lot.”

She turned to the spike on the wall – empty. Looking around for something she spied the brown hand towel and shrugged her shoulders.

An hour later the front door burst open.

“Mommy look what nana gave us,” her youngest shrieked waving a full mini gumball dispenser in her face.

Her other daughter followed carrying her own and Carol sighed. She had made no secret of her disapproval of her children having gum.

“Hello dear. I’ll be back shortly, I must go a place,” her mother-in-law rushed past.

A few minutes later she returned. “Um, Carol,” she whispered, “I think that you might want to change the towel in the guest facilities. One of the girls must have had an accident.”

“Oh that’s terrible,” Carol turned away grinning.

by Debbie Gravett © 2020.04.04

FFFC: Flash Fiction Challenge #59
Image by JessicaGale at Morguefile.com