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A Short Story : A Story?

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Just as he is about to remove the first three shingles from around the damaged one, Emily calls up to him from the base of the ladder. She grabs the rung of the ladder to steady herself for a moment. A wave of nausea suddenly comes over her, but she takes a deep breath and lets the feeling pass before Tomasz sees her. “Tomasz?” she says. She repeats it again between hammer strikes to get Tomasz’ attention. “Tomasz?” she says again, but this time a little louder as she cups her right hand to the side of her mouth to make sure she can be heard. Tomasz hears her voice in between the ping of the hammer strikes and says, “Yes, dear, what is it?” “How long will this take?” Emily responds as she once again holds onto one of the ladder rungs hoping Tomasz does not see her like this. “Not long,” Tomasz says, “maybe twenty minutes at the most. It’s just a few loose shingles at the ridgeline blown off by the storm last night. I need to get these nailed down, so we don’t get any water in the house. Why? Do you need something?” “Is there any way you can go to Mother’s after you fix the roof to look at her front door?” Emily asks. “It’s sticking again, and she’s having a hard time closing it.” “Sure, not a problem. Let me finish this, and I’ll go over there.” Tomasz says. Tomasz finishes the repair on the roof. He puts the toolbox near the front door so that he won’t forget it. He hangs the ladder back on the side of the shed. He knows he will need his block plane to

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