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The bet.  

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Personal writing fiction Mark O'Neill The bet It was another lonely night for Mrs Maloney as she sat in her armchair in the middle of her living room with a cup of tea. Her husband had been out all day again in the bookmaker's; it was if he lived there. Eventually he came home and Mrs Maloney had prepared them both dinner, but his had gone cold because she had already eaten hers earlier hoping he would have been there so they could enjoy it together. "Hello dear I made you some dinner in the kitchen, you'll have to heat it up because its gone a bit cold now" she told him nervously. He replied negatively "Alright woman let me breath I've only just got in the door!" She could tell he had been in the pub as well the way he staggered in the door. Mrs Maloney quietly started...

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