Flash Fiction · How to be British · Language


Tuesday, May 16, 2017. Daily Brit Wit.


Exclamation, informal

Thank you.

"I try not floundering, as pinpricks raise up my arm hair and unease wavers in my veins. If I allow my anxiety to take over, it'll only hinder the process of packing up the hotel. Exaggerated, I inhale.

'Is it still missing?'

I spin around upon hearing the amused tilt to the familiar tenor and find my brother leaning against the inside doorjamb, mouth twisted and forehead crinkled. 'No.' I huff, sneer at him, and spin back to the mess.

'How do you lose your keys wherever you go?' 

My eyes squeeze closed, fists flex, and jaw locks. 'They're misplaced, not lost.' 

He must hear something laced in my tone because when he speaks next he sounds friendly. 'Did you check in the right hand side of your suitcase?'

The suggestion baffles me. I wonder if he hid them, but then contemplate perhaps that's where the keys actually are and Henry saw me place them there. I check and find he's correct: there are my keys. 'Ta, brother,' I mutter in awe. 

He chortles behind me. 'I had a feeling you'd lose them. It's my business as older brother to know where your lost things go.'

I glance at the ceiling, huff and fight a grin, and peek over at him. His smile is contagious and we fall into giggles." 


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