(e)X Factor


She was the last person I expected to see when I opened the door that Saturday night.

Standing there cool as you like wearing that ugly looking orange dress she’d bought in Dunnes stores all those years ago. She wouldn’t listen to me when I told her it looked shite on her. Now, standing here on my doorstep all these years later, it still looked shite on her. In fact, it looked worse now; I didn’t think that was possible.

As she took a deep pull on her cigarette, I noticed the suck lines around her mouth deeper than ever. She certainly wasn’t aging well.

‘What do you want?’ I asked, keeping the door pulled over behind me.

She shifted nervously from foot to foot as she flicked her ash onto the step. ‘Can I come in?’ she said eventually, glancing over my shoulder as if she expected to see someone behind me.

‘I’m busy’ I replied, then went scarlet as I heard the theme tune to the X Factor suddenly blare out from my telly. ‘Sounds like it’ she smirked as she tossed her head back, the way she always did. Still got fab hair I thought as I saw the gleam of her bob beneath the porch light. God, I felt like smacking her face.

She suddenly flicked her butt over her shoulder and tried to push past me into the hallway. The fag end landed smack bang in the centre of my herbaceous border on top of my favourite peony roses.

The bleedin’ cheek of her, after all she’d put me through over the past six months; not content with trying to wreck my marriage bed, now here she was wrecking my flower beds too. How could I have ever called her my best friend?

‘What do you want’? I asked her again as I shoved her back on to the porch step. ‘Are you on your own?’ she asked. ‘It’s a bit early to be in your nightie isn’t it’. ‘Is it?’ I replied.’…and actually it’s a negligeé not a nightie’.

‘And who would you be wearing a negligeé for?’ she said as she tried to push past me again. ‘None of your business’ I said.’…anyway should you not be in the back of a car somewhere playing tonsil tennis with somebody’s husband?’

It was her turn to go scarlet. ‘Tony left me’ she said. ‘I thought I might find him here’.

‘Did you now?’ Do you know, I almost felt sorry for her, as I closed the door in her face, just as the downstairs loo flushed.


About trishnugentwriter

A wife and mother of four who writes and acts as much as she can in between the housework and shopping. I have been published in 'Irelands Own' 'Intallaght' and 'Tallaght Echo'. I have won prizes for poetry including 1st place in The Bealtaine Writing comp in 2012.I'm a member of drama group in 'An Cosan' in Tallaght and also 'Platform One' Writers group in Rua Red.
This entry was posted in A to Z 2015 and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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