In the MorningA Story by m.s.earlyI can't sleep thinking that she's mad at me. I won't even go in the bedroom. She's probably already asleep. Yes, I'm sure she's already sleep. If I went in there, it would wake her up when I got in the bed and that would only make it worse. If I went in there I would take my pants and shirt off, pull the covers back, and if that didn't wake her it would when I got under them. She'd either let out some kind of sigh and let me know I had bothered her or act like she didn't notice me at all. God forbid if I touch her. That would set her off. I'm sure she'd shrug me off of her before cursing in Italian. I never really know what she's saying when she takes off on one of those tangents, but you don't have to speak a language to know when you're being cussed out in it.
I'll just lay here on the couch with my foot in my mouth, watch something boring on TV until I fall asleep. Maybe she'll be over it by morning, but I doubt it. I'll get up early since it's hard to sleep on the couch anyway and fry some maple bacon and eggs over easy. She'll recognize I'm kissing up and that will annoy her. She'll criticize how well done or not done enough the bacon is. Do I have to make so much noise so early in the morning? There's too much pepper on the eggs. I'll pour her some orange juice. Shell ignore it and pour her own.
Why did I even have to say anything? Sometimes I start reacting and my mind literally tells me to shut up, but I can't. I'm too far gone, and my mouth keeps running and it keeps getting worse. I'm such an idiot sometimes. My pride swells during those power struggle conversations. I am a fool to my own ego. And now, I feel worse, like a victim to my own defects. How pathetic.
Jimmy Kimmel's tie is shiny under the stage lights. Could his monologue be any more scripted? It's funny... his jaw moves like a puppet's, but I can't see the hand up his a*s. I hate television. I hate mindless television that people take for art even worse.
Click.
Fox News. How nauseating. Bullies the American people into moronic ideals. Why are people in the South republicans anyway? Oh yeah, Goldwater.
Click.
The Empire of Necessity is being reviewed on CSPAN. It's a rerun. I've seen it before. At least it's relative. I'd never have the time to research something like that, much less write it.
Forget about it. I'll deal with it in the morning. I so hate it when she's upset with me. She gave up so much to be here. Her father and mother are sleeping right now up in Philadelphia with no idea that their little girl is fuming and alone in our bed. I promised them I would keep her happy, we might not always have everything we wanted, but we'd always have everything we needed. I've owned up to that I think. I'm not always going to say the right thing, and I can't walk on eggshells all the time either. I fluff the sofa cushion and get my head comfortable, pull the afghan over me. Tomorrow is another day. Maybe I'll walk to the flower shop in the morning and get some fresh cut flowers for her.
There is movement in the bedroom. She's up. S**t. The pause was just a lull, just the eye of the storm. I brace myself when the door to the living room opens.
"Aren't you coming to bed, love?" She coos.
Without looking I ask, "Are you sure?"
"Of course. Fuggetabouddit. It's in the past."
I look up to read her face. She's sheepish. In just her t-shirt. Hand on her hip. Waiting.
I cut the TV off with the remote and drop it on the sofa. Walk to the bedroom door. She walks in before I do and slides under the covers and looks at me coyly. The morning might not be so bad after all. © 2014 m.s.earlyFeatured Review
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Added on March 1, 2014Last Updated on March 3, 2014 Authorm.s.earlyVAAbout"A poet's work is to name the unnameable, to point at frauds, to take sides, start arguments, shape the world, and stop it going to sleep." -Salman Rushdie more..Writing
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