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January 23, 2008

Wednesday

He couldn't care less...

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She climbed out of bed, naked, and walked over to my cell phone. Smirking at me, she said, "Text from your wife."

"Finally noticed I was gone, huh?" I replied, staring at the naked body of the love of my life. Whatever my wife had to say was immaterial; it would probably just be her usual bullshit, which I could do without. Leaving her was the best idea I'd ever had.

Then she read the message, and I instantly knew something was extremely wrong. "What?" I asked. "What'd she say?"

She turned to me and said, "She's pregnant."

Oh, fuck.

Posted by: LJ at January 23, 2008 3:45 AM · Permalink

The summer heat had ripened the bananas in a single day, so they smelled sweetly rotten. He sniffed the milk. Sour. Pulled out a slice of bread. A dot or two of blue on one side. Does heat kill mould? When the toaster returned it, he scraped it down, smeared on some honey and went back outside.

Nothing had changed. The air was salty, humid, still, the day’s heat building up. The empty, silent beach house was loud with memories – his grandfather’s fishing rod, his father’s favourite chair. That longboard. He headed to the beach with it under his arm.

Posted by: rooruu at January 23, 2008 6:40 AM · Permalink