Joseph P Garland (@JPGarlandAuthor) flew the highest this week and takes his fourth win!
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“What are you thinking?”
She runs her finger across my cheek, on her side and leaning against me as she nearly always does when we were in bed satiated, on a late afternoon in the winter, when the sun is gone and the radiator is clanging out its heat.
I am on my back, my left arm reaching down to her waist.
“It is not nothing. Tell me.”
I pull my arm out and push her hand away and it startles her and her gentleness turns harsh.
“I’ve never seen you like this. Just tell me.”
I pull the sheet off me and get up on my side of the bed. But it’s my damn bed. I should be able to get out on any side of it.
I am suddenly modest in front of her and use my crossed hands as a shield as I back from the room. My bedroom. I am in the bathroom dreading returning to her in my bedroom.
I needn’t wait long.
Five, ten minutes tops. I hear her gathering some of her things and step into the living room, draped in a towel.
She’s dressed, her bag over her right arm.
“I never figured you were one of those ‘out with the old and in with the new’ types. I’ll arrange to pick up my things.”
Before she reaches the lobby, the shower, my shower, is hot but not scalding and I am cleaning her from me. With plenty of time to get to Siegel’s Pub to see if someone new happens by.