White Day

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
A man tells the story of a day when he saw a lot of others' abuse, but was blind to his own.

A Short story in under 500 Words written as a challenge.

Submitted: July 24, 2014

A A A | A A A

Submitted: July 24, 2014

A A A

A A A


 

I remember it as a white day, though there was neither snow nor fog. I looked at her, her face against white, stood out in the world. Sometimes Shreya could really do well with the make-up. I went to the driver’s seat, she went to the other. As she shut the door, the cotton belt was stuck in the seat. The door was locked. “OK.” I pressed my button to unlock, but she pushed her door-button, locking it again, and pulled at the handle. We struggled for what seemed like minutes, locking and unlocking. “Look…just…hey…hey stupid…don’t do anything!” I kept saying as I raised my voice. “Stay still, idiot!” Finally, I unlocked the door, and she was able to sit normally. We drove off.


We talked about groceries. She elevated her voice to frantic levels, “But Mehran, a body needs all kinds of food to nourish it...”

“Don’t talk too much. We’re not buying (unhealthy) redmeat! You always have these old, dumb ideas, learn to use your head instead. I know it’s hard for you to kick the habit.”


Since our first child would be born in seven months, I was ready to tackle her idiocy. Her head turned sharply to look at the shifting scenery outside. I saw her curled eyelashes bow. For all her dumb ideas, she sure was good at her lady-stuff.


My parents greeted us upon entrance. Shreya helped prepare lamb-chops while father and I watched our doctor-advice show. Later, the guests came and we had a good time.


All the guests left along with my wife. She carpooled-home early with a family friend. With father silent on the sofa, mom and I sat, talking.


All of a sudden, she was struck on the side of the head with a “How many times do I have to say, don’t..buy..redmeat!” Vision sharpened quickly, her still, smiling face was sharply struck on the side, so I stood up. The impact of bony fingers on her cheek sent snaps through the room.


“Hey!” I said; I’d lived outside his house for years now. “Stop it! She can eat redmeat if she wants to.” My words were a breeze as my father’s storm vibrated the air. He pulled at mom’s dress, forcing her sad, melted grin closer. The snaps his bony fingers produced multiplied and shot through the kitchen.


Enough!” I pleaded, between my parents once again. Mom, unsuccessfully, always wanted to do good. I glared at him. She told me to stop disrespecting my father’s rights. I rebuked him; I never beat my wife. Why would mom still be with someone like him?


Father sat down for the night. “No one loves me in this house!”


I got home, walking into the smell of dinner…from last night? It wasn’t like Shreya to go to sleep so early, even on nights before work. “Eh!......I gotta work tomorrow, you know.” My words fell on empty air as I stared at the white note on the fridge.


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