Wednesday Write-in #7. Incredibly late but it’s more to say I did it.
The mobile phone rings and it glows warm and amber in Tommy’s gut. Tommy groans weakly – the vibration is probably absolutely killing him. Kelly clucks soothingly at him while she clicks around the room, hermetically sealing them both in. Tommy’s beautiful lips are pulled down, ugly, bruised and deeply unhappy at his current predicament. “Tommy,” she says, shaking her head sadly, crouching down low so her hair tickles his sternum. Tommy loves that, she knows. Kelly wonders if Miranda, Sarah or fucking Thomas do that for him as well. “If I’ve asked you once, I’ve asked you a thousand million times. No phones at the dinner table.”