Fast Fiction: A Quiet One
Can one be too quiet? Richard Mallinson tells a talkative tale.
For more of Richard’s fast fiction please click on http://www.openwriting.com/archives/fast_fiction/
'And how are we today, Miriam?' I asked from behind the bar.
'I'm very well,' she said, ' ... now that he's gone.'
'Who's gone? You mean - ? What are you having?'
'Gin and tonic, please. That fella I was living with. He's -'
'Gone? But you always seemed fine together, drinking in here . . . He was quite a talker, wasn't he? At least, he always talked to me. Why d'you think he left?'
'Oh, I don't know ... he went on about being fed up with having to do all the talking or something stupid . . . just imagine . . .'
'I'll try. With ice and lemon? . . . And what did you say?'
'Yes, ice and ... And I said tough luck, mate. And the next thing I knew he'd packed a case and buggered off. . . Anyway, thank god he did. Talking to me like that! Got a light?'
'I've never heard you swear before, Miriam. Here, let me.'
'Thanks . . . No, that's because you've never heard me talk much. I prefer to keep my thoughts to myself, don't I? ... Sorry, do you want a cig? . . . Let the others do the bloody talking, I say . . . Cheers.'
The next time Miriam came in she was with a new man.
'This is Jacob,' she said. 'He's a quiet one.'
