marriage

Rumpled

“Darling, did you take my library book back yesterday?”

“No, my dear. We don’t have a library in town.”

“But it says here in this book–look, now–right here. For return or renewal on December 28th.”

“I see that, my dear, but the rest of the date states it should have been back in 2012.”

“Of course. That’s this year.”

“No it’s not. This year is 2016. You forget, you’ve been sleeping for four years.”

“I have?”

“Yes, my dear. You only woke up last week, the day after we moved. I had to have you packed in a wardrobe.”

“You’re joking!”

“No, dear, I’m not.”

“If you’re not, you know what that means, don’t you Darling?”

“It means I should sue the movers for waking you up?”

“No, it means we’re going to owe four years in late fees on this damned library book!”

Stay Calm (The Dentist, Part 4 of 5)

…continued from here…

“It wasn’t me. Ahem. I didn’t do it. Ahehehehem! I’m not responsible for that girl’s death!

“Oh, who the hell am I trying to kid? Okay, I’ll tell you the whole truth.

“My hygienist and I had an affair. It was torrid and disgusting and it was the best sex I’ve ever had in my life. But then her friend moved in with her and was all, ‘Make him make an honest woman out of you!’ and ‘You have to get a commitment out of him!’

“It drove me crazy. I did my best to stay calm amidst her demands but it was no good. I finally decided to break it off, and she went off the deep end. She threatened to tell my wife.

“So I made her eat her words. Every last one of them. I watched her brush her teeth for the very last time.

“You know, you’re a great interrogator. I didn’t think I’d ever tell…

“YES DEAR? I’M JUST IN THE BATHROOM! WHO AM I TALKING TO? OH, NO ONE, DEAR! JUST MYSELF. CAN WE TALK ABOUT THIS WHEN I COME OUT? I’M ABOUT TO GET IN THE SHOWER.

“I LOVE YOU TOO, DEAR.”

…continued here…

Moody

She accuses me all the time of being moody. I’ll show her.

The mood is set. The candles are lit around the steaming, lavender-scented bath, the wine is poured, and the dinner is warming, ready for when she gets out. I’m already in the bath waiting for her to come ho…

There she is! I hear her key in the door! And… who’s she talking to? She brought her good-looking boss home again?

She thought I was moody before! I’ll show her!

Black Friday

“Are you ready for our chaotic day at the shops tomorrow, then?”

“It’s the ‘stores,’ luv. We’re in America now.”

“Oh, all right then. The ‘stores.’ Are we taking the lorry or the car?”

“We’re going to take the truck. We’d better if we’re going to buy a new bed.”

“Right then. Better get the shopping bags out of the boot of the car for the small stuff.”

…

“What’s that sigh for?”

“Nothing, me luv. Did you ask them to close off the lift when we get back?”

“Yes I did. And it’s the ‘elevator.'”

Scorched

“Look! You’ve scorched the milk, Norman.”

“I’m sorry, Harriet my love. I don’t know what’s come over me today.”

“Do you think it’s got something to do with …you know?”

“It might, my love.”

“Oh, Norman. We did have a laugh though.”

“Hehe. Yes, yes we did.”

“Well then. What are we going to do with all this scorched milk?”

“Harriet, my love, why don’t you just pour it in the cat’s bowl? Give him a treat.”

“I s’pose I could, at that. We’ve had ours. Do you have any more of those pills left?”

“Harriet! You’re not thinking about that now, are you?”

“Why not? Let’s go scorch the sheets.”

“All right, then.”

Tart – 50-word fiction

“You’re such a tart,” she says in jest.
But little does she know I’ve been screwing her husband for three weeks now. The question is, do I tell her right away, or do I wait until the bitch beats me at tennis again? Because holy shit, do I hate losing.

cereal aisle psychosis

i married a man
with cereal aisle psychosis
whom i can leave to ponder
this or that
or that or this
for half a day
and still wind up
with naught
but a bowl of milk
for breakfast

my question is
if the cereal aisle
is such a conundrum
how did he
choose me?

Hearts (excerpt – NaNo WIP)

The marriage was doomed to remain childless. Paul had gone into it hoping he could change Vicki’s mind, though she’d never wanted kids. He built them a home in the suburbs, one with a big back yard and three bedrooms, but one day when Paul was at work, Vicki called a landscaping company to come and build a giant deck with a pool. The next day she painted over the pastel sheep in what would have been the nursery and turned the room into her office.
Perhaps never having to worry about money caused boredom in their marriage, maybe Vicki was never meant to settle down. When Paul finally acquiesced to allowing a third person into their bed, it was the beginning of the end.

pretend – poetry

sure
we can pretend
that our differences
don’t really matter

that the drizzle outside
is just a wet blanket
like the one
that covers us
when we try to have fun

and
when we kiss goodnight
we’re not really going
to bed mad

but what good does it do
to make believe we’re happy

they say
love is hard
it’s work
but it has to be
worth working for

we loved
once

i still love you
mostly
but the grass
the drizzle falls on
seems greener
and you
are tired of seeing me
look out the window

Flowers

“Why doesn’t she want a pot of flowers? They ‘cheer up the kitchen’ just as much as a long-stemmed rose that will die in a week.”

“Don’t ask me, man. Women are crazy. Hey, did you see that guy burn out at that intersection back there? So cool.”

“Pfft. Yeah. My wife doesn’t like it when I do that. Says it’s a waste of tires.”

“Haha. That’s women for you.”