Five chocolate buttons were the undoing of her.
There, on the saucer adjacent to her empty mug sat the five caramel filled white chocolate covered buttons. The child watched the door for Mothers return. A hand slithered surreptitiously towards the willow patterned saucer and grabbed. The woman snatched and stuffed them into her dribbling maw. A cacophony followed, the child shrieked, her Mother pointed … police were called.
Because of those innocuous chocolate delicacies … she finds herself in the Church hall attending addicts anonymous.
Gingerly she stood screwing her finger round a tail of escaped hair, “My name is Josy” she lied; they all did, “I am addicted to … she mumbled … dregs.” Her cheeks took on a shade of beetroot. “I have to eat or drink what others leave.” You could hear a fly attempting to kill its self against the Gothic Window, bump, bump it went.
Her breathy speak and wet palms were proof of her struggle. Tom the resident peeper began the rousing clap, congratulating Josy for managing to admit the shameful addiction, the first step is always the most difficult.
At the end of the share session, they mingled over tea and chocolate covered hobnobs. She didn’t accept a cup or plate. Tom thought it was her resistance technique. So quietly he lay his palm on her shoulder and nodded. Josy, startled, shrugged him away and scowled. People eventually said their goodbyes and drifted off. Except for one … Josy, she hid behind a pillar until they had gone.
The weekly rag ran with the headlines … Local woman detained for psychiatric assessment, The lady who so far remains unnamed had to be forcibly restrained after being found under a table in the Church of Mary and Saint Ethlereds hall. Beside her, saliva smeared plates and cups scattered willy-nilly across the newly laid oak floor. The distraught rector had to be sedated at the scene. Through his sobs, he told of being unceremoniously grabbed by the leg; pulled beneath trestles and forced to endure such an abomination. “She was sucking on my fingers licking my palms for the longest time; it was awful.” He cried.
The Jane Doe was held under section 136 of the mental health act for 72 hours to be assessed as to her competency to stand trial, this being her second arrest in as many weeks.
I love to hear your thoughts, it helps me hone my craft. Play along, tell me in the comments what other fabricated addictions could the people have … in this church hall.
Lol this is the first time I’ve seen my name in a story, and it’s a corker!
Poor fictional Josy. She needs to ignore those leftovers!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Sloppy seconds are never good. 😁😂😃Thank you for coming x
LikeLiked by 1 person
I have no suggestions, I just loved reading your great story. Brilliant
LikeLiked by 1 person
Addicted to the smell of beeswax polish…must taste it…😍 or addicted to confessing all sins loudly and erratically 😂
LikeLiked by 1 person
The second one could be interesting, your mind is almost as warped as mine. 😉😇😯
LikeLike
High praise!
LikeLiked by 1 person
What about the addiction of stealing toilet paper from stalls.
LikeLike
That is probably just theft 🤣😃😀 maybe ‘ he’ can steal quilted toilet paper and rub it seductively between his thighs. Oh my days this could be hilarious. 👀😲 I bet he wears an airtex vest with tea stains and y front Budgie smugglers. 🤣😁
LikeLike
Hi Ellen, First time here. I LOVE your zany style of writing. You come across as such a warm person. So nice to have a glimpse into your world. I have three precious sons but NO grand-children (and won’t have…) I hope your little grand-daughter is thriving. Best wishes.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you immensely for your time and kind words. We have George John a beautiful un wrinkled 😂😁 grandson. I will take zany, love it.
LikeLike
Sorry Ellen, I called dear little George John a grand-daughter. Whoops! Bless him, xx
LikeLiked by 1 person
No offence taken, any would have been beautiful. Happy Easter Joy
LikeLike
Well done Ellen…you got the slobbering need not to leave any hobnob or chocolate button behind.. I mean…. they could go off… and so might the vicar if left to his own devices… hugs
LikeLike
Finger sucking cleaned him right up 😁 thank you for your comments. X it is like being paid for doing a good job.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Bingo cards, dabbing them to death and calling bingo all day long. I’m just being silly. I really liked what you wrote, especially the ending. Never saw that coming. ❤️
LikeLiked by 1 person
Gambling, bingo included is an actual one. Maybe addicted to everyone looking at him when he shouts house … when he isn’t even playing. Or calling numbers on busses … Now I am loving it. Twins get on at Hyde park He stands and shouts “two little ducks, twenty two’ and takes his seat 🤣😂thanks for commenting.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Haha! Love it! 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
It ended to soon, I needed more, why was this her thing?
As usual very thought provoking.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Writers of flash fiction should leave the reader wanting what comes next, and working out what went before. But, still writing a beginning middle and enď. Xx thank you so much for commenting and you are right it could very well grow into a larger story.
LikeLiked by 1 person