Til I see Headlights.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
It is something to read.

Submitted: January 27, 2014

A A A | A A A

Submitted: January 27, 2014



Strange machinations, remnants of bygone childhood stupidity, teenage angst and adult shame began to flood the mistress, as she disrobed queenly in front of the man that loved her.  He had bought her Bordeaux, gifts and desperate attention. As well as pangs of guilt and dreamy lies that brought vindication, and yet...a hollow sense of self. No, she didn't love him. But why? He had risked life and limb, home and respect for her, and yet...nothing. The only thing he bought that meant something to her was pity, watered down with self-pity. Still nothing. She smirked at the thought.

"What are you smiling about, honey?"

"Nothing, just a thought."

"Well...what are you thinking about?"

"Nothing, nothing at all."

Sighing, as he knew for quite some time that she didn't love him, merely rolled over and said.

"Not tonight, listen, I gotta go before Lisa starts to think that I'm not just pulling a late shift."

"Really? I don't mean to sound rude or anything. But you're normally always in the mood."

"Yeah, well, I have certain obligations."

"(sighs) Fine"

As he got dressed, she stared carelessly into the form that morphed from part-time lover, to full time family man.
Nothing, nothing at all.

He bid farewell, and she just smiled and waved.

A Venus in Furs.

Still staring stark eyed as he left, she covered herself in the Ermine furs and quipped.

"Je t'aime?"


Another smile broke out on her face, and with those words echoing off in her head, she went to sleep.


He drove mesmerized and bitter, with each red light offering him a moment or two to reflect on his marriage to her, and his obligations to Lisa. His eyes left smoky in there sockets, face Kafka-esque in expression. He was no longer a man, just the visage of one, an illusory thought that drifted in and out of places, eyes, people and situations, not even completely sure why he was there. For about 6 years he tried to ascertain meaning to his relationship with his wife, and for 2 he had found none. He had tried to be punctual, affectionate, he had tried to tighten the noose that his wife made for him a whole 8 years ago.

These were the things that kept him up at night, what played in his head over and over again, what he thought when he saw either of them, what he heard whenever he heard a sweet, sappy, over-produced, over-hyped song come on the radio. As he went to and fro his home. What was playing right now was a song of his youth. "Your Love" by The Outfield. He, for some reasons unknown to him, laughed as the chorus of

"I don't wanna lose your love, tonight,
Oh, I just wanna use your love, tonight"

Rang out. It should have brought him pain, should have brought him guilt. It should have brought anything but laughter,but no, that's all it did.

He let go another laugh, and another laugh, and another laugh, until he had to pull over. He wasn't even entirely sure what he was laughing about, was it the coincidence, was it the thought of other people seeing such a strange sight of a man laughing hysterically in the middle of the man, he didn't know. 

Eventually, he regained his composure and pulled out out back onto the road, he saw a bright light and then nothing...

© Copyright 2020 Tobi Valentine. All rights reserved.

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