bretb
The hinge on the door was broken. No one liked the way things looked from outside of the house but on this inside it all looked so much worse. At first glance it looked like a robbery that had been interrupted by the home owners. That is, until I noticed the half smoked cigar sitting in the kitchen sink. Mr. and Mrs. Marks didn't smoke and another officer reporter that nothing seemed to missing.
The apron caught fire as soon as the stove was turned on. I had no time to think but luckily the man beside me kept his calm. He pulled me over to the sink and put out the flames. My everyday hero, my husband!
The trunk was full. I had to sit on it to get it zipped all the way around. It was seemingly unimportant and dull in appearance but I thought, "This is my first step towards freedom." I dragged it to the bottom of the stairs, down the hall and out the front door.
The champagne was flat and not at all what I expected, just like this evening. I had dreamed of being alone with him, spending time with just one each other but now that we were together I could tell he wasn't really there. He was drifting. He never wanted me.