Jack flipped the car into park and craned his neck up at the building in front of them. All of the houses on this street were a similar pastel colour – did she say yellow or blue? “Is this it?” he motioned toward Amy at the yellow house. “I forgot what colour she said the house was and those house numbers are tiny.” “Only one way to find out,” Amy sighed, “let’s just head up and see if Laura’s home.” The walk up to the house was long. Jack lifted his heavy feet up the steps toward the front door. Jack and Amy found themselves on the front doorstep, shoulders side by side. They both inhaled a long, deep breath, and simultaneously knocked on the door. Knock. Knock. Knock. The door slowly opened, bleary eyed, Laura collapsed on the front step.
145 words. This is a response to Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers, lovingly hosted by Priceless Joy.