The Fury

The Fury

The wooden chrome brass-handled door slammed shut as the guilty

Fletcher left the house leaving his mentally disturbed wife weeping in

the deserted hallway. She fell to her knees and bawled so loudly in

the shocking fact that her dearly loved husband had left her that even

the deaf next-door neighbour Mrs Jones, tried to get a quick glance at

what was happening through the living room window.

She shed tears till a river had been created in front of her. As she

gradually looked up you could see her bright red face had taken on

such a different aspect it looked as if the entire colour from her

whole body had been drained out in depression. The tears had smudged

the entire make up on her pale face, to such a great extent that her

eyes looked like the frightening mysterious night.

“How could he, how could he leave me alone and go away?” Mrs Fletcher

sobbed. “ I can’t believe it that my world of me and Fletcher is

shattered into pieces with just one lie. If only I could take my few

words of jealousy back.”

There was gentle knock on the door, Mrs Fletcher leaped up hoping it

was Fletcher who had forgiven her and broken all relationships with

the other woman. Unfortunately for her it was the nosy Mrs Sykes, who

had come round asking about what the noise was all about. Mrs Fletcher

lied saying it was just the T.V. that was on full volume but Mrs Sykes

knew the truth as she’d been peeping through the window. Mrs

Fletcher’s face also revealed everything. As Mrs Sykes walked back to

her own house, once again the wooden door slammed shut.

“Who does she think she is? Always peeping into other people’s

privacy,” asked Mrs Fletcher.

Just when it seemed as if Mrs Fletcher had controlled her anger and

forgotten about Fletcher there was the sound of glass breaking. Mrs

Fletcher turned around to see her son who had just woke up from his

sleep crying very innocently over broken glass.