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Housewife
Fearlessly, I ran my fingers through Angela’s hair. I knew she wouldn’t wake up. She never woke up when I did things like this. Cold and unyielding, she would lay with her back to me and would stay that way until morning, impervious to my nudges and attempts at affection. I sighted and gave her one last glance, her pale skin barley illuminated by the light of the clock. I thought for a moment about leaning over to kiss her, but I just kept staring.
The next morning was the same as always. Long after I was up, Angela still lied in bed, barley moving from the night before. I went up stairs to get her but it was, of course, a struggle. She refused to leave the bed. Without a word, she managed to convey that she had no desire to spend any amount of time with me. She wanted to stay in the bed forever. With a bit of a struggle, however, I was able to get her down into the kitchen, where her breakfast was always waiting for her. As always, she would ignore the food and ignore me. She would make no sound and no attempt at communication. She would only sit there, waiting for me to go to work; a listless look draped over her every feature. I made a few half-heated attempts at conversation, all were met with the same silence and the same look of contempt. My watch beeped at me, and told me that I should already be in my car. With a sigh, I turned and went to the door, waving behind me as I did. I didn’t bother to look back to watch her not return it.
Work flew by quickly, helped along by my dread for having to go home. As I walked in the door, I found just what I expected to. Angela sat at the table, an untouched cup of coffee sitting by her hand. I cleared my throat. “So, how did it go today?”
I thought for a moment I heard her draw in a breath to speak to me for the first time that day, but there was nothing. With a glance to the calendar, I sighed. It was Monday. “So do you still, you know, want to?” I waited a moment. There was no reply, but she didn’t object as we went upstairs to the bedroom.
It was horrible. The entire time I looked down at Angela she refused to meet my gaze. Her head tilted awkwardly to the side, deliberately trying to avoid eye contact. The same dull, empty look way painted across her face. It was unbearable. The whole ordeal felt like something I was doing to her and not with. I felt wholly alone throughout the entire act. I finished quickly and got off her. As I lied there, catching my breath, I glanced over to Angela. All of the movement had agitated the bullet wound in her head. Despite being nearly a week old, it still managed to leak some blood onto the pillow. I slowly lifted myself out of the bed and went to the bathroom to get a towel. Maybe it was time to find a new girlfriend.
 Ciz · Mon Aug 11, 2008 @ 03:25am · 0 Comments |
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