dublindarling
The rain was scarce around his parts. He stood there, at the edge of his bone dry fields, the yellowing stalks of grain crackling in the dry winds. His arms rested on his hips as he heaved a long sigh, just as he had the day before and the day before that. He could hear his wife in the thin-walled home behind him, chattering away on their still cord-ed phone. Yes, the rain was scarce.
The walls were white and the door squeaked as it was pushed open, but never when it closed. But all in all, there was nothing special about the room. The bed was made neatly, the shelves packed with books that were alphabetized by author, just like any other library.
She lunges, but he dodges. She is savage, anger wiping all thoughts from her mind. She cannot lose. It is out of the question. She. Must. Win. If not for herself, for Tock. For his apple.
A dozen cars sat in his garage and the roads awaited. But all he wanted was to sit back, relax, and watch a movie on his own goddamn couch. Why was that not acceptable? Why?
She smiles sweetly as she sweeps her hair across her shoulders and carefully ties the apron around her. Her eyes twinkle as she bends towards the small girl, rays of summer sunshine streaming through the open window.
She skips along the path, kicking up dirt along the way. Her hands sway back and forth, occasionally scraping along the thorns that protrude from the bushes lining her trail, but she doesn't mind.
It sits there, at the end of his bed. It sits there as he sleeps, it sits there as he silently removes himself from his cocoon of blankets, it sits there as he drags himself past her dresser and past her shoes and into the bathroom, where her toothbrush still rests on the counter. Her trunk. It sits.
It sparkles, glinting in the fluorescent lights that hang above her. She sighs as she swirls the champagne in the glass, glancing around the too large room. The glass finds its way to her lips as the laughter swirls around her just as the champagne does.