Mid-Life Crisis Fiction

1st Prize: £100 Helen Waters

2nd Prize: £75   J. Turbull

High Time

by Helen Waters

Jenny didn’t much like her neighbours anymore, their constant comings and goings were starting to annoy her, as much as they weren’t doing anything deliberately to annoy her, slamming their gate shut as they returned home at two in the morning wasn’t exactly going to endear them to her.

She peered through the net curtain again, this time watching Matthew Dawson roaring off down the road on his new two wheeled toy, he narrowly missed running over Mr Cranshaw’s dog that sped up the road barking ferociously at him. Jenny closed her eyes at the near miss and breathed a sigh of relief, admittedly, Mr Cranshaw was a bit negligent when it came to controlling that dog but even so, Jenny knew he would be desperately sad if anything happened to it.

Jenny’s thoughts returned to her middle aged neighbour, honestly, you would think he was twenty instead of forty one. Tight leather trousers that showed every bar of chocolate consumed over the last twenty years. It wasn’t a pretty sight.

Her curtains still twitching, Jenny watched as Alison Dawson started strutting down the path in a figure hugging red dress and a pair of heels she could barely walk in. Talk about mutton dressed as lamb, Jenny giggled, what on earth was going on? They used to be so sensible.

Jenny went and sat down in her old but comfy armchair and reached for her mug of cocoa. The whole world was going mad for some reason. She sipped gently and wondered why. Alison Dawson had never come across as the flighty type before and Jenny wondered if she had totally misjudged her, all those chats and not once a hint of a flighty nature. Something must have happened to have brought out such a radical change in her.

She knew that their children were about to go off to college so maybe that was the catalyst, they had suddenly emerged through the gawky stages of adolescence and were at last looking like decent human beings with some degree of intelligence. At least they had grown out of that annoying ‘kicking their football against her wall’ stage. It had been so irritating that she couldn’t resist complaining and the sensible Alison had taken it all in her stride though and ushered her in making an apologetic coffee for her. She had been warm and friendly and said she would tell her children to not do it again or else. There had been some lapses of course, usually when Alison had gone out shopping and Matthew Dawson was left in charge.

In fact, Jenny pondered, Matthew had turned into the biggest kid of all once the steadying influence of his wife had been lifted for an hour or two. He was likeable though for all his childish ways. Actually, she supposed she had been lucky to have them as neighbours over the years. It certainly could have been a lot worse. Jenny started feeling slightly guilty at her uncharitable thoughts earlier. After all, when Mike had walked out on her five years ago and had run off with his secretary, Jenny had fallen apart at the seams. She had never worked, having been the home builder while Mike went on to bigger and better things in his career. His good salary had made sure that she didn’t want for a thing. His leaving meant the walls had come crashing down around her. A million fragments of her life had splintered just like that and she lost track of her own sense of self-esteem and even taking care of herself.

When Alison had realised that Mike had left, she kept popping round with tempting food, and then when she had twisted her ankle last year, Mathew had come running to her aid and taking up directly to the hospital staying with her for hours.

Guilt wrapped itself around her and she stood up suddenly, not enjoying the sudden revelation that she was turning into a bitter, frosty old lady. Old, Jenny nearly laughed, she was only forty seven, surely that wasn’t’ old? Catching sight of her reflection, she gasped, where had the well groomed, attractive looking Jenny gone? Where had the friendly welcoming Jenny gone of late? She looked so much older than her forty seven years, she sighed in dismay. Her hair was greying and had no style left at all and her face had no colour. There was no excitement in her eyes either.

Was that why Alison had started dolling herself up of late? Had she caught sight of herself in the mirror one day and realise that time was catching up with her? Jenny had always scoffed when people mentioned a mid- life crisis but what if those feelings of panic and self realisation were actually a warning to make something of yourself before it was too late?

Feeling a surging sense of panic followed by an intense sense of determination, Jenny realised that she had to make changes to her life, do something to make her feel good about herself again. It was time to let go of memories of her former husband and for the real Jenny to emerge, one that had been suppressed by her dependence on her wealthy husband and now, she realised that, daft or not, her neighbours were at least grasping life with both hands and she should do the same. Although she might not try the figure hugging dress approach, she thought sensibly.

It may not have been a typical mid-life crisis but it was a life changing revelation. Perhaps a trip to the hairdressers was in order? Jenny grabbed her purse and made her way out of the house, making a mental note to stop off at the florists on the way home to buy flowers for her neighbours, after all, without them, her mid life crisis might never have emerged, still maybe she would keep that little revelation to herself.

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