Friday, April 3, 2015

Staying the Course

They lay in bed, separated by a stack of books arranged to define the divide more than to be read. She finished a Bradbury story and mused: “What if today were the last day of our lives?”

"What?," he snapped, studying the crossword; the answer to 'effortful but futile' was crystallizing –

"I wouldn't do anything different," she pronounced, mouth pursed. “That'd be – flighty.”

“Sisyphean!,” he crowed.

“You weren't listening,” she complained, adding, "Take your pills," as she fluffed pillows. Obediently, he swallowed her medicine, she his. And but for this – deviation, if you will – their last day was altogether ordinary.

written in 2007 when i was challenged to tell a 100-word story


Bibliomama said...

I like it. It captures the tone of the relationship perfectly. I don't know exactly what makes a story, and this isn't wholly satisfying, but it's contained and has as much closure as many longer ones do.

slow panic said...

Love this.