Me. You. Coffee.

The manual had said “easy-build” and “ready to occupy in only 3 hours” but after 4 years and 77 hours, Bob was becoming more than a little bit fed up.

It was Fanny’s idea, they’d talked about building an extension for years but the money hadn’t exactly been rolling in.

But then she’d seen an advert for flat packed, “build it yourself” homes and decided there and then that her dreams had been answered.

She’s dead now, of course, her nagging body being used as a pivotal role in the foundations.

By the front door.

Where you wipe your feet.

Submitted for Friday Fictioneers photo prompt. See if you can write a piece of flash fiction in 100 words.