The Fury

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The Fury
Mrs Fletcher clenched and unclenched her hands at her sides, her eyes seeking wildly as the fury roared impotently in her. How dare he walk away from her like that! Mrs Fletcher, enraged with acrimony, stormed into the kitchen, her hands had started to drip with sweat from all the clasping she had done with such compulsion, she calmly drifted towards her silver basin where all the plates and cutlery had remained from last night’s meal. Mrs Fletcher gazed outside the casement above the basin which looked out over the courtyard, she saw that dark grim clouds were gathering in a sky which was once very clear and she sighed to herself thinking that her relationship with Mr Fletcher had once been very happy and cheerful like a sunny day but because of the arguments and fights the relationship was now sad and depressing just like a dark and cloudy day. Mrs Fletcher started to wash her hands to wash off the sweat. Mrs Fletcher aspired to think about something else but while she was washing she felt something cold and metallic on her finger, she looked down and saw her wedding ring. Her face immediately turned red. Everywhere she looked there are always constant reminders of her unfaithful husband. She grabbed the ring on her finger and pulled it out with such great force she pulled the finger out of its socket.

After nursing her finger Mrs Fletcher went on to cook lunch for one. The steam hovered around the stove, the irritation and the antagonism inside her only limited Mrs Fletcher to boil rice and vegetables. The meal just sat there on top of the kitchen table. The steam was flowing out the food as if a volcano had erupted and the food was untouchable for three minutes. Mrs Fletcher just sat at the table staring at the food, she had no intention of eating it, she just prepared the meal so she can take her mind off things and pass time. Mrs Fletcher jumped out of her chair and grabbed the food from the table and dumped it in the bin underneath her kitchen...
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