The Security Of Home
What Happens At Home, Stays At Home
** This is a story that I published 2 years ago, in fiction. I wanted to reshare it for this challenge, but was unsure how to change communities. So, if this story is familiar, that is why **
**
*
Imagine if your walls could talk. Would they have your back?
*
"Welcome, welcome, come on in." The sound of shuffling and whispers commence as the room comes to order.
"Okay everybody, listen up, we have a very short amount of time and a lot of information to cover. Sharon has run to the store, so we may have 30 minutes, tops."
The clock ticks louder than normal, "Yes, grandfather, we can hear you...time is your specialty, I know, I know, I'm sorry."
"Okay, to any of you that are new to these meetings, I am the kitchen table, you can call me Tab. We try our best to have these meetings frequently, to keep the events that take place on a daily, clear and under wraps. It is our duty to be sure Sharon's dirty laundry is not aired, no offence, laundry room."
A gruff voice from the back, "No offence taken, Tab" Laundry room exclaims.
"Now, I know Sharon has had company for the past few days, he is NOT, I repeat, not going to be a permanent fixture. Conversations over me last night were- grim. But I believe the patio has a better perspective; would you care to elaborate Pat? Patio, are you here?"
Hesitantly, the patio clears his throat. "I have to say, this guy is a total profligate, utterly and shamelessly immoral. If I could have, I would have knocked his ass out, I mean, what is Sharon thinking?" The whole room erupts in applause.
The kitchen table quickly tries to deescalate the mood.
"Alright, we can all agree that this guy needs to go. What do you have to say, Sid? (bedside table) Anything to report?
Sid replies by playing a song through Apple music:
"You know that's right," shouted the jet tub. "Ain't no cleaner strong enough to clean up that mess, I'm just sayin', I have never felt so dirty."
The mirror chimed in, "I cannot unsee that, EVER, even with the lights off."
As Tab attempts to get everyone calmed down, the basement door opens. To the entire houses' surprise, Nick, the house guest, appears. With his hand still on the enamel doorknob, he steps slowly, mouth opened into the living room, where the meeting is taking place. From the bottom of the steps, the storage cubby yells up, "I'm sorry, I tried to warn you he was still here. He heard everything through the open vents."
The vents quickly snap shut, "Oh crap, I am so sorry."
The sofa shouts out in frustration, "You had one job, venny, one job!"
Tab knows he only has a moment to react, and it HAS to be faster than Nick's. He barks out the commands like a weathered commander.
"Door, lock. Shades, down. Lazy-boy, you know what to do." Before Nick could release the knob on the basement door, he was scooped up and battened down with the sherpa blanket. His mouth was secured with a tooth whitening mouthpiece. "If you play this right Nick, Tab said, all that will happen to you is your teeth will be whiter."
Nick could only mumble as he cried.
The TV began to play:
After the music finished, Tab slid over to the Lazy-boy and asked, "If we remove the white strips, do you promise not to make a sound?"
Nick nodded his head, yes. Tab instructed the vacuum to remove the whitener from Nick's mouth, whose teeth were absolutely beautiful.
Tab continued, "so, we have come to an understanding that what has transpired here today, in this living room, does not become common knowledge outside these walls, and Sharon will never hear from you again?"
Again, Nick nodded like a bobble-head.
"It would, however, be polite of you to send flowers, wishing her well, and apologizing for being a pig of a man, do you understand me?" Tab asked.
As Nick made his vow of silence, the garage door sounded the alarm, "Sharon is pulling in, time for the guest to go."
The lazy boy transferred Nick to the chaise recliner on the patio, who wheeled him around the house to his car, just as the garage closed, with Sharon safely inside.
The chaise made it clear to Nick, that they knew where he lived, and they weren't opposed to making a house call.
Nick peeled out of the driveway.
Sharon put the groceries down on the table as she watched out the window.
"What a putz," she mumbled.
Taking a seat at the table, she sighed. "You guys don't know good you have it." She ran her hands over the smooth top of the table. "Dating sucks"
The chair took the opportunity to give her a slight hug. She patted the arm of the chair as she grabbed the bag of groceries and headed towards the kitchen and said. "It is so good to be home."
The TV began to blast a welcome, and the entire house felt warmer and cozier.
About the Creator
Kelli Sheckler-Amsden
Telling stories my heart needs to tell <3 life is a journey, not a competition
If you like what you read, feel free to leave a tip, I would love some feedback
Find me on twitter @kelli7958958
or facebook


Comments (4)
Very cute tale… I loved the nicknames for furniture 😄.
Nicely done Kelli. I associate you with rhyming poetry (Mistress of Rhyme 😉😉) so it was a nice alternative. What was the challenge you entered and is it still current?
See, he's not ghosting you. It's just your home protecting you from another douche bag. Sorry they didn't manage to protect you from the one. But at least you got two great kids out of the deal. Thoroughly enjoyed this, Kelli. Blessings to you.
another great one