|Sisohpromatem (standard:other, 2095 words)|
|Author: Reid Laurence||Added: Jan 09 2007||Views/Reads: 1903/1240||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|Suddenly, a frightening future becomes all too clear as a man who expects another drab working day gets the surprise of his life.|
Getting out of bed is always the toughest part of the morning for me, so before I turned over to leave the soft, warm confines I spent the night in, I thought to myself how nice it would be to have a little comforting breakfast before greeting the day and turned in the opposite direction to put the idea to my wife. “Honey lamb,” I asked, as I gently patted that part of her body closest to me - which at the time, appeared to be one of her blanketed legs. “I sure could use a couple of eggs an toast. Whaddaya say? Can we strike a deal here?” “You got two hands,” came her reply. “But sugar lips, I've gotta get ready. I just don't have the time.” “Eat some cereal.” “Is that your final answer?” I replied, hoping that one final plea might make her see the light. “Go away... I'm sleeping,” she said without looking up. “Very well then,” I remarked. “I can see that I'm on my own here,” I added, as I found the floor with my feet and walked to the bathroom mirror for a quick shave and to comb what little hair I had left. “I thought marriage was a team effort Mary. You're letting the team down, can't you see that?” But it was too late to lodge any last minute complaint, for my better half had already fallen back to sleep and rested peacefully in the bed I'd only moments before left, looking as angelic and peaceful as the day we were wed. Oh well, I thought to myself. I'll treat myself to something hot for lunch and turned on an overhead light as I finished brushing my teeth but as the light came on and I gazed back at myself in the mirror, I couldn't help but notice that the passing years hadn't been unkind to me at all. In fact, I thought, I'd never looked better and as I reached in my closet for the usual uniform of white shirt and dark pants I regularly donned, I wondered if my lovely wife would be so kind as to help me tie a neater then usual knot in the colorful tie I'd selected to offset the otherwise drab, everyday clothing I was subtly forced to wear. “You-who,” I whispered, not wanting to startle her awake from her beauty sleep. “Think you can help me out with my tie here, I'm just about ready ta hit the road?” “Boy, you don't give up do you,” she answered, removing the top pillow she used to cover her head to block out any unwanted sound or light. “Okay... I guess. Let's see now,” she muttered, sitting up on the edge of the bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Which kind a knot ya want? The little thin one or the big fat one?” “Uhh... the little thin one,” I replied. And kneeling over to make the tie easier for her to reach, I found myself thinking how nice it was to have someone who cared about me in my corner, helping me out, and now, as at other times, literally taking up the slack in something which needed her kind and devoted attention. But as I stood there, bent at the waist, watching her sleepy eyes slowly opening, I couldn't help but wonder why her expression had suddenly changed so from the harmony of rest, to the unrest of fear and disgust. “What's wrong my dove?” I questioned. “You look like you've seen a ghost. Did you have a bad dream?” But all the answer she could muster was the most shrill and terrifying scream I'd ever heard and as she sat frozen with the dread of a real-to-life horror scene, I did my best to try to calm her so as not to wake our two sleeping children. “Easy Mary. Calm down, please. What did I do? Is the tie that bad? I can always pick out another one. Hey, I'm flexible, you know me.” But even as I spoke these last words, she'd jumped back into bed, covered herself completely and pulled the blankets up over her head, leaving no part of her body whatsoever exposed to the naked eye. “Does that mean I'm on my own with my tie too?” I asked. “If ya hate it that much, why don'tcha come out an help me pick out something else. You can always hit the hay again.” “G-g-go away! You're not my husband! What'did you do with my husband!?” was all she said, and finished up by adding one more, last, “go away!” Shocked, I went back to the mirror to see if I could find out why or what could have happened to have caused such a strange and sudden reaction in her, but as I carefully searched my reflected image, I Click here to read the rest of this story (124 more lines)
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