Late Night

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
A man has trouble sleeping. Thoughts are racing in his mind. What does one do to cure insomnia?

Submitted: August 08, 2017

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Submitted: August 08, 2017

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I told the neighbors to keep their music down.

It seemed reasonable at the time. 2 am, it should be quiet time in the neighborhood. Don't get me wrong, I love The Eagles as much as the next person, but I think now was not the time to check into the "Hotel California".

Still the music plays. If Lori was here, she would be rocking out to it also. We're both classic rock junkies. She preferred bands and I was more into singers. I think that was what made us click. Well that and the amazing sex. I mean the things she does with her tongue.

Anyway......The Dallas Cowboys should have a good season.

I live in a one story ranch style house. It stands out in a neighborhood full of A frames. The A Frames, whenever you look at them they standout quite noticably. Mine just looks sad.

I get up from my bed and walk into the living room. I notice my cell phone has a missed call. Opening the screen, I notice that it was Dave who called. Dave was an old buddy of mine who lived in Boise. Last time I had seen him was a year after his wife Linda passed away. Heartbreaking, not just that Linda was gone, but Dave just lost it. It was understandable. Guy lost his wife.

I dialed his number.

"What the hell, Jim?" Dave asked.

"Missed your call, thought I'd say Howdy." I said.

"Nobody does that at 2 am." Dave said. "I mean nobody."

"Well, long haul drivers and people working graveyard shifts do." I said.

"But do they say Howdy? That, my son, is the question." Dave said.

"Can't sleep tonight," I said.

"Figured as much," Dave said.

"Know it all," I said.

"Why can't you sleep?" Dave asked.

I hesitated before answering. Why couldn't I go to sleep? What the hell was wrong with me? I tried racking my brain around this thought, was coming up empty.

"I just miss Lori. She's staying with her family in Twin Falls." I said.

"What did you do?" Dave asked.

"The hell do you mean?" I asked.

"Boy, I was married for 25 years. In matters like this, I am the Obi wan to your Luke Skywalker. So come on, tell Obi Wan your problem." Dave said.

"Your sounding more like Dr. Phil." I said.

"I'll pretend you didn't say that." Dave said.

Lori went to her parents in Twin Falls cause she makes a once a year visit there, at least for a couple weeks. She was a painter. Pretty successful too. Had pictures in galleries all over the West. Beautiful brunette with a tight body. She wore thick Buddy Holly type glasses. Looked like a naughty Librarian. Nothing wrong with that.

"Lori goes to visit her family once a year. It was about that time." I said.

"Ok, that's how you wanna play it." Dave said. "I'll talk to you later when I wake up."

"Fair enough," I said.

"Are you okay, Jim?" Dave asked.

"Yeah, just a little restless." I said.

We hung up. I let Dave's words sink in. It did bug me that he assumed it was an argument that led to Lori going to her parents. We had been together for 15 years. Not a lot of arguing between us. I looked at my watch, 2:15. I figured Lori was still awake.

I dialed.

"Hello," A male voice said.

"Is Lori there?" I asked. A hint of anger in my voice.

"Who's this?" The voice said.

"Her husband," I said.

I could hear the shuffling of the phone.

"Hi honey," Lori said.

"Who is the baritone bastard?" I asked.

"That's Mark." Lori said.

I was to mad and shocked to continue to confront for details.

"How long?" I asked.

"What do you mean?" Lori asked.

"How long has this been going on?" I asked.

Lori started to say something else but stopped.

"3 Weeks." Lori said.

"So he followed you to your folks home? Wow." I said.

"I wanted to tell you, Jim. It was just a fling. I'm so sorry." Lori said.

"I'll see you when you come back. We will talk about it then." I said.

I hung up the phone. It truly sucks to be an insomniac. You never know what you will find out about things.


© Copyright 2017 Robert Logan. All rights reserved.

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