Slipper Slippage into Step-ladder Ensemble

Another excerpt from my novel, Woman on the Verge of Paradise, follows. This blurb takes us past my break-up with Noah, the dead-possum-kisser-who-perhaps-leaned-towards-necrophilia-and-lived-nextdoor-to-me-so-what-can-possibly-go-wrong? guy. 

I hope it brings laughter.

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A few weeks post-breakup, I really missed Noah. Luckily, the lightbulb in my main room died. Perfect. I readily purchased a new one at the 7-11 directly behind Parkside Manor. To play it casual, I threw on a sweatsuit and slippers, then knocked on his door.

“Hi Noah, my lightbulb went out. Can I bother you to fix it for me? I can’t reach.” He agreed and walked a few steps into my apartment. 

At 5’8,” Noah couldn’t reach either. So I positioned my small step-ladder directly underneath the dead bulb and handed him the new one. Noah climbed to the third step. Nervous, I asked if he wanted a cup of water or something to drink. He said “No, I’ll just change this for you now that I’m up here.”

I needed to do something besides watch his handiwork, so I poured myself a cup of water in the kitchen, sipped, and left it on the counter. As I re-entered the main room, my slippers slipped. I fell on my butt and skid across the sleek hard-wood floor, crashing into the ladder. Noah jolted and jumped off to safety. Fortunately, he’d replaced the dead bulb before the collision.  

“Oh sorry,” I said with composure, sharp pangs surging through my rear and upper thighs. I stood up. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah I’m fine. You scared the hell out of me, that’s all.”

“Oh sorry,” I reiterated. “Well um thanks for changing my lightbulb.” I stared at the floor, couldn’t look at him.

“Okay. I guess I’ll see you later.” Noah swiftly departed.

I begrudgingly walked into the kitchen, pulled open the freezer door and grabbed my ice-pack. A cold numbing sensation soon displaced the pain, but not the shame.