#wss366 - hinge "Hey Mo, what's the good news?" She jumped from the kitchen chair. "Holy mother of Christ! You scared me! I didn't hear the door!" "That door! I oiled the hinges yesterday before I left." "What? Why did you do that, Craig? Who told you to oil it?" "Chill out! I was just trying to help! What's the big deal? It squeaked so loud..." "My door! My squeaks! How dare you?!" "Sorry Mo, I didn't think it wa—" "You didn't think at all. Get out of my sight!" Obviously, she didn't hear him leave. How was she supposed to know when the north wind was pushing to get in? How would she know when that devious cat entered the house? And what about old Jack leaving it ajar just for the noise to denounce him? Maybe she should break up with him. You don't mess with other people's doors. That's a given. The nerve of him! The phone chimed. Craig was texting. "Hey Mo, look what I found for your door!" An image of a little set of bells followed. "You can hear the door without those haunting noises!" Mmmhh. She had never thought of that. Chime. "I brought them. Going to your place right now. Get a pop for me." Well, maybe, just maybe, she could get used to the bells. Maybe (and just maybe) Craig was a keeper after all. #MicroFiction