Waiting
Andy moved the ketchup bottle in line with the salt shaker. The table looked tidier now. Like that would make a difference. Maisy would be here any minute.
She’s not going to notice the condiments. The voice in his head was cruel.
‘In a world where you can be anything, be kind,’ he thought, but the snide voice didn’t read inspirational quotes from faded teatowels.
He restored the sense of random, not wanting to show he’d been waiting long: planning explanations, preparing for her tears.
The quote didn’t advise what kind meant. Was he being kind telling her the truth?
elmowrites 
Ah! Great final question
I’m a fan of the truth. Even when it hurts. But I sympathise with Andy here, because it all too often does.
A challenging story, which I enjoyed reading
Thanks!
I was going to say these were the moves of a nervous person with something important to say and the nerves that precede it! Well done.
Absolutely. Up to you precisely what he’s nervous about though.
Exackery 😉
Cruel to be kind, but better than carrying on a lie. Nicely done.
Well yes indeed.
This is going to hurt… And all the realignment of the condiments won’t change that.
I think you’re right – on both counts. But what else is he supposed to do while he waits?!
This is a great take, I like how the reshuffling of the condiments shows his nervousness. Maybe if he changes kindness to decency… For adults I usually prefer a hurtful truth to a kind lie. But of course it depends on the situation.
I tend to agree, but I like your suggestion that ‘decency’ is a good substitute
Whatever he has to say seems like bad news. I think being kind is akin to being honest. Great mood in the writing.
Thanks James, glad you liked it!
Dear Jen,
It sounds like the truth is going to hurt, no matter how kindly delivered. Love the way you set the tone with him lining up the condiments. True confession: I did line up the condiments when I snapped the picture, thinking it would make a fun painting. 😉
Shalom,
Rochelle
I love that you painted something so ‘mundane’ Rochelle. You’ve managed to make condiments beautiful!
We must be understanding with our OCD friends. Their world must be correctly organized. As for the truth? Who knows?
I used to work with a man who had to have everything perfectly straight. How he shared an office with me is a mystery!
I used to tilt pictures on the wall and move things around when I knew my OCD friends were coming over. 🙂
Yes, often, telling the truth is kindness. The trick is to do it as kindly as possible.
Amen to that.
for all you know, she might have a surprise of her own. just saying… 🙂
Haha, I hope so!
Condiments are unlikely to make what he’s about to say more savoury. An excellent take.
Here’s mine!
Nice play on words there. Thanks for stopping by!
Very good description of a guilty person struggling with their conscience.
Thanks, MsJ. In my head he’s actually a nice guy, and doing the right thing. It won’t feel like that to her though.
You’re welcome. I guess it depends on what he’s about to tell her as to how nice he is. You have the jump on me though as the writer 😉
I love the dialogue with his inner voice, but I think there will be no kindness in his revelation no matter how neat the condiments are. Cleverly written!
Thanks Brenda. In my head he’s doing the right thig and not a bad guy for doing it, but it definitely depends what you think he’s about to say.
Oh that’s going to be a tough conversation methinks.
I love that quote
Be Kind
Very Dr Who. And nothing is more true. Be Kind
I hope she takes it well
Thanks Laurie. I like the quote too – the more I think about it, the more I’m convinced my greatest wishes for my children is that they are happy and kind.
Same!
I like this story – it’s subtle and sensitively told. I particularly like your pivot sentence “He restored the sense of random, not wanting to show he’d been waiting long: planning explanations, preparing for her tears.”
Thanks for picking up on that line… and for your comment in general.
Jen,
Great point: truth isn’t always “kind” in the saccharine way, but necessary all the same.
pax,
dora
What a powerful story. I’ve so been there with rearranging and unarranging things. I think we all have. Hope it goes well.