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  • Writer's pictureJeff South

Blogtober, Day 9

Word of the day: Magic

The chair sat in the middle of the dining room, not the corner where it was originally placed by Leslie and interrogated Marty regarding any shenanigans on his part.

“Why would I move a chair? Are you sure you didn’t move it and forgot?”

She shot him a look that told him that was a ridiculous thing to suggest and he held his hands up in defense.

“Why is this bothering you?” he asked.

“I don’t understand how a chair magically moves.” “Mason was in here earlier playing. Maybe he moved it.” Marty picked up the chair to return it to its rightful place.

Leslie frowned and considered this for a moment, decided it was quite possible, and made a mental note to ask Mason about it later. Still, why would he be playing with this chair? She wondered if perhaps maybe she did move it, even though such a thing seemed preposterous. Absent-mindedness was not one of her attributes. The incident with the dining room light last night and now this had her wondering, though. The sound of her husband cursing pulled her from this introspection.

“Ow! Shit! Ow!” Marty sucked on his right index finger and picked at it.

“What’s wrong?” “Damn chair gave me a splinter.”

They worked to fish it out, but it appeared to be too small to get to. Marty did pout enough to coax a pity kiss for his finger from Leslie.

“You gonna be okay?”

“Just a splinter. It’ll come out eventually.”

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