Photo © Ted Strutz
The constant noise went on and on, all day, all week, giving him a splitting headache. Then there was the tossing and turning and whistling at night.
He was fed-up. It was time to fix it.
Out came his tools, and the tarp of course. He needed to keep the floor clean. A few strikes with the hammer fixed the noise problem. Washcloths helped with the spillage.
But the nuisance was still in the way. Plus putrefaction was a concern.
So he sailed to where the current was the strongest, weighted her down, and tossed her overboard.
Ah! Blessed silence.
In response to Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers challenge of 6 October 2017
Nicely done. Could easily have been called ‘Cabin Fever’, I guess. This is why we need man caves. 🙂 But something tells me his alibi might not wash.
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I don’t think he thought it through!
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Blimey, that was a nasty shock! It wasn’t until I read ‘putrefaction’ that I realised what was going on. Talk about DIY…
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Problem solved. Simple. 🙂
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Dear Sheena,
That was one way to take care of the “problem.” Hope she doesn’t haunt him. 😉
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Hmmm. Hopefully not a “Dexter” in the making….
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Oh dear. I hope he’s haunted by the noise!
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Oh dear… this has me thinking of a certain submarine pilot… grim.
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