The Nude In The Bathroom – By Mary J. Breen
Flash Fiction / November 16, 2008

I’m not sure I remember where their house is. I know we go along 12th, and then- I know where we turn. I’ll tell you. Good. So Jane, before we get there, I heard you on the phone telling Margaret that you hate that painting in our bathroom. Is this true? All this time and you never said anything? So, tell me: why do you hate it? I told you I wasn’t keen on it when we had the bathroom renovated. I told you the colours were wrong, and the size too, but you were so quick to argue. That’s when I realized- Realized what? Don’t pretend you don’t understand, Donald. And do we have to do this right now? Oh, it’s the next corner, so get in the turning lane. Right. But please, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Why don’t you like it? I think it’s lovely. All that colour and movement. So softly stated. So much suggested. Ahh, I’ll bet you think it’s indecent! You can be such a prude sometimes. Oh for chrissake, Donald. Softly stated. Colour and movement. Stop being so obtuse! How can you pretend to be so clever one minute and so…