Small Packages

“How about this one?” Peter asked, gesturing to a white bookshelf. They’d been in this furniture store for almost an hour and he was itching to escape the maze of room displays under the fluorescent lights.

Ingrid gave the shelf an appraising look. “Looks too tall again. Check it.”

Peter dug out the tape measure from his pocket for what had to be the seventh time. He crouched and then drew the tape to the top of the shelf. “Thirty-six inches.”

“See, I was right. Too tall.”

“Are you sure it won’t work?”

“It’s a converted attic, Peter. There’s not exactly any wiggle room when it comes to where an angled ceiling starts and the wall ends.”

Peter sighed. He knew she was right. “What about that one?” He pointed to the next display that contained a walnut shelf that had to be short enough.

“No way,” Ingrid declared. “Did you miss the memo, Peter? Dark woods are not in style anymore.”

“But it’s a nursery, Ingrid. A baby doesn’t know what wood is in style.”

Ingrid shook her head. “The baby might not, but I do. No dark wood.”

“Okay,” Peter said dejectedly. Then he raised his finger, “But what if I paint it for you?”

Ingrid tilted her head and narrowed her eyes.

“You’re right, you didn’t marry a handyman.” He stood and placed an affectionate hand on Ingrid's bulging belly. Leaning forward, he planted a kiss on her forehead. Then he sighed, “Alright, let’s keep looking.”

Author’s Note: This was written for the second round of the 2024 NYC Midnight 250 Word Microfiction Challenge. My assignment included the following: Genre - Romantic Comedy, Action - Measuring height, Word - Memo

The feedback I received for this one was very positive, but unfortunately it didn’t make the cut to get me to the final round. Regardless, I think it ended up being a great piece to end my NYC Midnight endeavors with.

Another recently published flash fiction that might strike your fancy linked below: