Once a month the Australian Writers Centre runs a short story competition and here was my entry for August, 2023! Here were the necessary inclusions for this competition:
- Your story must take place in a RESTAURANT.
- Your story must include a character who smashes something.
- Your story must include the words EUPHORIA, LABYRINTH and SILHOUETTE (plurals etc are also fine).
The Cue
By Jess Knaus
Infuriatingly, he ordered the same risotto with a glass of riesling for them both. She hated risotto – he knew that – but he ordered on her behalf regardless. If you asked him to, he would outline his rights which conveniently absolved her of her own. Her jaw became rigid with rage as her molars clenched. The waiter, having been on the receiving end of his arrogance and superiority, was relieved to walk away, something Penny wished she could also do. But she had an important role to play, as she had to keep reminding herself. This would all be over soon – he’d ordered what she had expected, and that moved the plan forward.
‘Tomorrow we’ll meet Mark at the races. I have business to discuss with him. Gabrielle will be there so I guess you can talk to her. But I’d like for you to wear the Dolce,’ he concluded.
She didn’t acknowledge, she wasn’t required to. Her job was to comply, so she did. The euphoria of their early days had dissolved into mere toleration of each other. Now she wasn’t invited to understand the labyrinth of his mind – his secret meetings, upcoming plans or dealings. She was merely dragged along.
‘Well I look forward to seeing Gabrielle,’ she said flatly. He nodded in reply, barely a semblance of care on his face. He lusted after her silhouette in that dress, so much so that now she despised it. No doubt she was expected to perform for him later. Although not this time.
The riesling was carried out by the sommelier, displayed for approval. He responded ‘yes’ before it was poured, and instantly thrown down his throat.
‘Actually, leave the bottle,’ he demanded before the waiter could depart. The bottle was left.
Another waiter followed closely behind, holding their risottos. This was it – the moment she’d get out and away from his vile and cruel existence.
The plates were placed in front of them gently, although before reaching for her fork she was reaching for the plate, lifting it into the air in front of him as she stood.
‘What are you doing?’ he commanded.
With one strong motion she flung the plate to the ground, cracking it into shards. In a split second his face turned foul before they were surrounded by harried cries, doors being kicked in, guns pointed and a voice bellowing, ‘Get on the ground now!’
She was free, but he would never be again.
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