Best-Laid Plans

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“So, you’re averse to having daylight in the basement,” Sandra noted.

Doug raised an eyebrow.

“Or fresh air.”

“What’s air gotta do with it?” Doug blurted, annoyed at himself for taking the bait. “I made sure the window opens.”

It was Sandra’s turn to raise a brow. He hated when she did that. It left him wondering whether his face had looked as condescending.

“You mean, can open to invite all the creepy-crawlies in?”

He glanced at the woodpile. An enterprising spider was already spinning a thread over the window’s frame.

“Know what?” Doug huffed. “Next time you do the stacking.”

~~~~

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The Misanthrope

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Photo: Sarah Kilian on Unsplash

 

There is nothing anyone could say to change his mind.

Or his attitude.

Or his demeanor.

One could hardly expect him to respect those who practically asked to be demeaned, who did not try to rise above their lassitude, who did not take the opportunity when it presented.

So what if his wealth was carved out of others’ misery?

Someone had to do it. Someone had to step up to the plate and be the boss.

What did they expect him to be? A sniveling, prattling sissy like the ones who follow him?! They are lucky to have him.

 

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Misanthrope in 99 words

Disclaimer: No offense intended to any amphibians. I know they are better than that. Image presented for illustration purposes only….