Friday, June 8, 2012

Married Female - MF1

You drive home in your Toyota Prius in a state of “stun.”  That’s all you can call it.  When you shut the door in your home you feel completely alone, more than you ever have in your life.  You know the day you are going to die, but you don’t know how.  Will the building fall on you?  Will you be out walking with your husband and see the sky turn to flames, not be able to breathe?  How will it happen?

You pour a glass of Pinot Grigio, sit down, kick off your Manolo Blahniks, wiggle your toes and try to think what you are going to say to your husband.  Your mind is numb.  You cannot keep a thought in your head.  There is no reason to think of the future.  Time stops, but then you hear him come into the drive in his Porsche Carrera.

“Hi honey!” he yells as he comes in the door, “How was the meeting?  What was it all about?”

“Dear,” you begin, “Why don’t we go home and see our families for a week?  I need a break and I’m sure you could use one too.”  He looks at you like you are having a nervous breakdown.  You think, “That’s it!  Maybe it will work.”          

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