Inge tapped her foot on the floor, her mood fluctuating between anger and anxiety. Why was Avery bringing some random boxer into their home? Was she going to dump Inge for this guy?
Avery had caught an early return flight and called from the airport. “Change of plans, babe. I’ll cab home. I’m bringing home a boxer. His name is Ralph.”
Inge had worked herself up so much that when the front door opened, she burst into tears. Avery gave her a puzzled look as a snub-nosed brindle pup scrambled across the floor and started to lick her bare feet.
For some reason, I was thinking about the various meanings for the word boxer (or boxers, which adds yet another meaning). This story grew out of those thoughts. Funny how the mind works!
Leave a comment. Leave a prompt. And if you smiled when you read the last line—you know you did—share the story with your friends and family.