This is a short story, in 1210 words.
It was prompted by the above photo, sent to me by Ed Westen.
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The first shop didn’t have any Bakewell Tarts in stock, and it took two more tries before finding some in the fourth. They had to be Mr Kipling, the only brand Mildred liked. Albert reversed the car out onto the main road, and headed for home. Why his wife wanted to eat Bakewell Tarts all of a sudden, and at nine at night, he had no idea. It wasn’t as if it was one of those pregnancy fancies. She was sixty-six last birthday, and they had been sleeping in separate rooms for nine years.
Oh well, anything for a quiet life.
When his mother died, Albert had started to feel lonely. Almost fifty years with her had become a familiar, cosy feeling. It had never bothered him that he didn’t knew who his father was, as he was never alone when she was alive. He had asked her about who his father was once, and she had just shrugged. “Can’t remember love, there were a lot of men back then. I was quite a looker, though you wouldn’t think so now”.
For two years, he muddled along. Then the house began to feel empty, and he could hear his own breathing when he was watching television. So he joined a club, a Bowls Club on the edge of town. That was where he met Mildred. It was her idea to get married. “Just for company though, Albert. None of that lovey-dovey stuff, okay?” That suited him just fine.
It took him quite a while to work out the truth. Mildred didn’t want company, she wanted a servant. And a chauffeur, and a cook, and someone to pay the bills. Albert regretted ever telling her about his inheritance, as she gave up her job the week before they got married. He had to work until he was sixty-five, coming home every day to get her dinner, do the washing and ironing, and watch her play Bejewelled on her phone for hours on end.
At least he wasn’t lonely.
The light on the road ahead looked like someone had left their full beams on, but then it got brighter and brighter until he couldn’t see anything. Scared he might crash, Albert pulled the car over and stopped on the verge. The light got closer and closer, then seemed to pass over him, showing up the blood vessels through his skin. And there was a noise too, like the drone of a million bees, right inside his head.
It stopped as soon as it had started, and the road was plunged into darkness once again.
Mildred insisted on a plate, so he brought the three Bakewell Tarts back on a nice Royal Doulton tea plate, and watched as she wolfed them down. She had been checking the Bingo numbers in the daily newspaper, and spluttered crumbs everywhere as she shook her head in disgust. “I only needed two numbers. Bugger it!”
Three days later, Albert woke up with a bad pain in his jaw. It felt like toothache, and his gums were swollen close to the pain. But it was in a spot where he had had to have two back teeth removed over three years ago, so he didn’t see how it could be toothache. He found an old bottle of tooth tincture, and rubbed some onto the area. It didn’t help much, but Mildred was asking when he was going to hang the washing on the line, so he had to forget about the pain, and get on with his chores.
Later that night, he was aware of a terrible sharp pain in his mouth, and when he went into the bathroom, he saw some blood around his lips. Gingerly touching inside, he could feel that his gum had broken open, and the pain was getting worse. Mildred came in, complaining that his putting the light on had disturbed her. When he told her what was happening, she just switched off the light, and turned to head back to bed. “Well go and see the dentist tomorrow, but don’t wake me up again”.
They said there were no appointments, but when he told them he was a private patient of Mrs Gomez, they fitted him in. She was perplexed, to say the least. “Albert, I have to tell you that I have never seen anything like it. The two teeth I took out are growing back, and seemingly very quickly too. I need to take X-rays, and do some tests”.
She showed him the X-ray on her computer screen. “No doubt about it, look here. See? They are almost fully grown again”. When Albert told her that they had only started hurting the day before, she shook her head. “Amazing, just amazing. Would you mind if I wrote about this to the Institute of Dentistry? You could become famous, Albert”.
He was given a prescription for pain killers and antibiotics, told to be careful what he ate on that side, and to come back in ten days.
When he woke up the next morning, the pain had gone, and he had two brand new teeth. But his fingernails and toenails were all over two inches long. He couldn’t get his slippers on his feet, and when he tried to use the nail clippers, it was hard to grasp them with the strangely elongated fingernails. He managed after a while, and went downstairs to tell Mildred. But she was busy with an online slots game on her phone, and waved him away.
By the afternoon, Albert had made his tongue sore, by rubbing it constantly on those new teeth. And his other teeth seemed to be bigger and stronger too, as if they were filling his mouth. He tried to eat a slice of fruit cake, but could hardly hold it with fingers that had long nails that had regrown. When he finally bit off some cake, he found he was chewing his tongue along with the cake. In a panic, he drove back to the dentist, and waited until she could see him.
Mumbling through a mouth full of fast-growing teeth, he managed to tell her his problem, and showed her his fingernails too. She looked scared, and said she would have to ask advice from the head of the practice. Meanwhile, he should go home, and she would phone him.
It was impossible to walk to the car, let alone drive it. He had to pull his shoes off there and then, on the rain-swept pavement. His toenails had ripped through his socks, and were as long as the claws on a wild animal. He just about managed to drive without hitting them on the surface above the car’s controls. Once out of the town centre, Albert had to open his mouth slightly, to allow his tongue to hang out and take the pressure off. Mildred would be angry that he had been gone so long, he knew that.
But he knew something else too. He had to go back to where he had pulled off the road onto the verge. Then he had to wait for the bright light to return.
He could only hope they would come back for him before it was too late.
Now can we find that space crew and have them make hair grow back? Of course maybe they would sprout it everywhere instead of just my head! Great tale. Winter is very good for your imagination.
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Thanks, Elizabeth. Those photos seem to spark up hidden parts of my brain. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete
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Very clever, Pete. Poor dentist! What a fright! Have a great weekend, Pete!
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Thanks, Olga. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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(1) Are Mr Kipling cakes and pies popular in India?
(2) “Scared he might crash, Albert pulled the car over and stopped on the verge.” On the verge of panic, that is.
(3) Albert was no Einstein, but he welcomed enlightenment.
(4) Once aboard the spacecraft, Albert was treated to mashed potatoes served by Roy Neary on a Royal Doulton plate.
(5) Albert fought tooth and nail to counter the lingering effects of his alien encounter.
(6) It’s hard to face ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶f̶e̶e̶t̶ defeat, especially when you’ve been KO’d (Keratin Overwhelmed).
(7) Albert can be excused for letting his toenails rip through his socks, but he should never have let Mildred Pierce his heart.
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I set two little traps.
Mildred Pierce, and Tooth and Nail.
I just heard them both go ‘SNAP!’
Nicely done, David. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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Wow! That was a great story, Pete. I do hope Albert is taken by the aliens. Well done!
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It’s his only solution, Jennie! 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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Haha! And, that’s true. Best to you, Pete.
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Oh, clever!!! 😄😄
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Thanks, Sue. Glad you thought so. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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Yep!
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Well, you did it again!
Another great story and I really enjoyed it!
You really are a wonderful writer!
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I’m blushing now! 🙂
Thanks as always, Margie. I really appreciate you reading all of these, and your nice comments.
Best wishes, Pete.
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It might have been best had his mum told him, but then, she might not have known. (I wondered what those x-rays really indicated. Now I know, thanks for the heads up.) Warmest regards, Theo
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It was unlikely she did know, Theo. She was ‘busy’ in her youth, so I’m told. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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“so I’ told”! A good way to put it. But then I suspect we were all a bit busier in our youth. Warmest regards, Theo
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Damn! I’ve been having dreams that my teeth would re-grow again since having all mine out some years ago. False ones just don’t cut it! But I don’t need the toe and finger nails. Unless…………
I will watch out for bright lights as we are driving along, and report to base if anything happens.
Great story again Pete.
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Thanks, Lorraine. Take it from me, you wouldn’t want them regrowing for ever. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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Lol Pete
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Where did that come from? 🙂 I enjoy the fact you left us to some up with our own conclusion, I was thinking he was turning into a dog so much the same as the werewolf, either way I hope he can make something if his new life 🙂
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No, his dad was an alien, and they came back for him. No werewolves mate. 🙂
Cheers, Pete.
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Good story. Sounds like something Milder and Scully would investigate on X-Files.
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Well spotted, Jeanne. It was something between Twilight Zone and X-Files indeed.
Best wishes, Pete.
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I was thinking the X-Files as well Pete. This is quite different. I loved it!
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Thanks, Kim. A little bit sci-fi, for a change. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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Finally, I found someone who remembers X-files. Somehow, in India of my generation, everyone preferred Cricket instead 🙂 Great story! I hope Albert gets beamed up. Anything is better than living with that woman.
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I think most people here remember X-files, Shaily. I watched every episode!
Best wishes, Pete. 🙂
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A touch of the old lycanthrope there, Pete (BTW – I’m with Fragglerocking on this one 🐺) 😃
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You have gone ‘Anonymous’. I hope the light didn’t affect you too! 🙂
(Albert is not a werewolf, just so you know)
Best wishes, Pete.
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Dammit I thought he would go home and rip Mildred’s neck open! I would have 😀 😀
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He’s not a werewolf, FR, even though it sounds like he might be.
But I think Mildred will be waiting a long time for her dinner. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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I was hoping the same.
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I don’t do werewolf stories, Jude. x
(Not yet, anyway.)
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Well, it was the growing nails and teeth and the lolling tongue which suggested he was turning into one!
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I was deliberately ‘misleading the reader’. 🙂 x
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Your imagination continues to be a source of wonder to me. Great story. I broke a tooth or a bit of filling came out last night so I have a weekend of fretting and a visit to the dentist on Monday – haven’t been aware of any bright lights in the vicinity so think it will be okay.
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If you see anything like that on the way to the dentist, make sure to pull the car over. 🙂
Thanks, Mary.
(My imagination is sometimes a curse, filling my head with all sorts.)
Best wishes, Pete.
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Beam me up Scotty! There’s no intelligent life down here – eh? Love it.
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Thanks, GP. I think we discovered who Albert’s father was. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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No doubt about it!
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