Wednesday, January 14, 2015


HER 
Inspired by true events

She looks across the table as he speaks on. He still has that charm, that boyish smile, those   eyes that made her uncomfortable yet beautiful, vulnerable yet strong. She watched him as he fiddled with his pen and chatted excitedly on the phone. He had encountered life and he had mastered the seasons, his laugh lines cutting deep into the edges of his eyes as he chuckled. ‘Marry a man with laugh lines,’ her mother had said, ‘They have the best hearts.’
 That was what she did, she had married him and his laugh lines. ‘Well, mother, I’m not the only woman they crease for". She thought ruefully.
 She had served him with her days. Every single day. She had worn stupid clothes and cooked stupid dinners to entertain his stupid business partners. She had given all her savings and her inheritance for his "business plans". She had given all her passion to him, not holding anything back. 

‘I had a good time,’ the message had read. ‘Do you think we could do it again soon? I am free this weekend. I have a surprise for you if you reply in 10 minutes. xxx" ‎

She had been married to him for fifteen years and didn't even know him at all. Who was he? This man?

She had become obsessed with trying to find out who she was, this new plaything. She was pretty but that was all. Nothing intriguing about her demeanor. It couldn't be that she was just good in bed. He was attracted to strength and character. He loved a good argument and some effrontery.  She seemed like a craft project; an empty can painted by a child in an eager attempt to get commended by his teacher.

She had decided not to shed any tears, it never did her any good. She needed the rawness of the hurt, she needed the weight in the blow to make her mind up. She steadily poured herself a glass of water and drank deeply. She felt it push back the salty tears at the back of her throat.

‎She had spoken to a friend who had given her a number to call. The men would stage a robbery as they both returned from their sickening rendezvous. She wondered lazily where they were going, where they had been going. The robbers would beat him up and as for her, they could do as they pleased.
 She took another long drink of water, glared at him and turned to leave. 
‎She dialed the number and heard a gruff voice answer. What was she doing? Who was she? Were they both so lost? Trying to stage a robbery. She had become a kingpin and a criminal all in forty-eight hours. She hit the red button and sank to the floor, her knees giving in.
The tears first trickled and then flowed.
 Defeat. Bitterness. Despise. She slowly lifted her phone, scrolled down to the last dialed number and hit green. 


Author's Notes: Women are so awesome until...... ! Such a melancholy start to a blog. It gets better. haha!


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