He wouldn't speak for days after they'd 'had words'.
She always made the first move.
Well not this time, it was his turn.
She spotted the bouquet on the dining table.
This was a turn-up, him apologising, with flowers!
'To my darling Pauline' the card read.
"Those were delivered for her next door" he mumbled.
Friday 55 Flash Fiction is brought to you by G-man (Mr Knowitall). The idea is you write a story in exactly 55 words. If you want to take part pop over and let G-man know when you've posted your 55.