War.

My third Sunday Story. Here, I explore uncertainty towards failed relationships.

It was a new day. The sunlight filtered through the gap in the curtains, forming a perfect line across the bedspread. She tilted her head and tried to look beyond the light. Her ex-husband was going to stay with her for a couple of days and she was absorbing the fact that she won’t have an empty house to look forward to at least for a week. A strand of hair tickled her face and she impatiently brushed away, suddenly very agitated. Pushing away the covers, she sat up and looked around the room, as if she were looking for some reassurance, something that would tell her that this temporary diversion wouldn’t be an unwelcome one. The doorbell rang, startling her out of her thoughts, almost making her jump. She sighed in resignation and her feet dragged themselves up to the door and she paused, with her hand on the latch and grimaced. “Let’s get this over with.”, she muttered under her breath and the doorbell rang again, twice. “Open it, Sarah. You know I will be gone soon.” came his voice through as she opened the door to find him standing on her porch, looking thoroughly irritated. “What took you so long? You know it’s just for a week. After my house is fumigated, I’ll be gone.”

Not saying a thing, Sarah turned and walked to the kitchen and her ex-husband followed. She felt scrutinized and resented the fact that he could still elicit such a reaction out of her. They had been separated for over a year, yet she could feel her heart beat faster than ever as she looked at him, could feel her legs wobble as he sat across the counter to stare at her as she proceeded to make some coffee. She couldn’t imagine what went wrong; their friends had sworn that the two of them were perfect for each other. Two people who were so in love, now on the verge of an ugly divorce. Setting two mugs on the counter, she poured in some milk as he hissed, “You know I like mine black.”

She set her mouth in a grim line. That’s why they weren’t together anymore. “Well, here you will drink it the way I do. Remind me again why you couldn’t stay at a hotel instead.” He looked away and she knew it was a triumph on her part. The war had begun. Yet, she didn’t feel particularly victorious.

 

Author's Note

I would love an honest opinion!

Reviews

[EdgarLovecraft]

Then story has good consistency and the rhythm was good to : )

[New Theory]

Good description, a little grammar improvement, that may have been missed by you. Very minute ones..
The plot didn't go anywhere, we met two people and they were about to be divorced. I would like to know what happens next or something like that.

Good job.

[Petewa]

Good story, I really liked the amount of detail in it.