Tuesday, November 20, 2007

messages - submission nov 20

What an awful day! All he wanted was to kick back in his chair, throw back a beer or two and watch the game – in peace – for once. But was that going to happen? Not bloody likely. The kids would be running around like a pack of wild Indians. She would be going on and on about her day. She had probably talked to her mother or his mother or her sisters and she would have to share the whole conversation. – “And then she said” – and “can you imagine”. He, of course, would have to pay attention. Just when the game would be getting good she would want him to take out the trash or come to dinner or change the baby. Just some quiet, for once. Is that so much to ask?
He had to stop for gas and thought about calling her but decided to avoid conversation for as long as possible. The fog had gotten worse so it took him longer than usual to get home. The game had already started and he thought about circling the block a few more times just so he could enjoy the game a little longer alone but it was already late.
When he came in the house was dark and silent. Then he saw the red rose petals on the ground. Oh no, did he forget something? Birthday? Anniversary? No. He followed the rose petals to the kitchen and there on the counter was a candle, a red rose and a note.
“Darling, you sounded tired and worn out when I called you this afternoon. I took the kids to my mothers and I’ve gone out with Susan. There is a cold six pack in the fridge. Relax and enjoy the game. I’ll be back before 10:00. I love you.”

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