Short Story with no title
I found this on an old notebook. It has no date and no title. But I liked it all over again when I re-read what I wrote. Though it seems like only a snapshot, it has the air of finality, so I count the work as complete. I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I enjoyed rediscovering it.
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The trees looked bare and dead. Whenever the wind blew strongly against them their branches scratched the sky in protest. It was a very depressing sight. Not much could lighten Sasha’s mood lately. Winter always shriveled her heart. She could not explain it to herself or anyone else. Her husband called it “winter blues”. Adam was a charming man. He had honest blue eyes and a head full of coppery hair. And when he smiled, he could thaw out the icicles inside her, if just a little. She married him because she thought his love may melt away her frigid mind and maybe make of her a warm, happy person. Instead Sasha spent her day smiling her frost away.
She smiled at him when he tried to be cute, when he brought her breakfast in bed, and she even wrapped her arms around him and smothered him in kisses when he came home from work. But Sasha felt nothing. His kisses left her lips wet and hot and tasting of coffee, nothing more. At night, when he made love to her body, she watched the shadows dance around the walls and felt nothing. Even the sound of his flesh against hers was a distant echo that only managed to deepen her solitude.
She watched the trees struggle through the kitchen window, a hot mug of tea in her hands. She was hiding inside a large Christmas sweater. Adam hung Christmas junk all over the house every year. She wished one day he would burn in the cheerful house, the fire caused by the heat of hundreds of cheery little light bulbs.
When had she become so bitter? It must have probably been a matter of time. A five year marriage with no children; which she never wanted, and a loving husband that always knew what to say. How angry it all made her!
She felt heat rush down her arms and looked down, startled to see she had shattered the mug between her hands. A mixture of blood and hot tea ran down her arms and dripped on the floor.
Without much thought Sasha threw the broken mug in the trash and meticulously cleaned up the floor, ran cold water on her hands and made her way to her bedroom. She shrugged off the sweater and threw it carelessly into a laundry basket. With a set of tweezers she made her way to the bed, sat and began to pick ceramic from her palms.
While the wind howled outside, she raised her gaze to the doorway that lead to the master bathroom. She’d been avoiding it all morning. She had to scrub the tub and change the towels. Perhaps she should get a different soap to go in there as well.
Now that she had put her mind on it, she could no longer avoid it. With a tired sigh Sasha made her way to the bathroom and kneeled in front of the large tub. Adam loved romantic baths and so he had insisted on purchasing the large monster tub.
She stared into his empty eyes under the bloody bath water. The charming plainness was gone from his face. Sasha stroked his hair. She had convinced him to stop cutting it six months ago. In this day and age a business man could afford to have long hair. It was past his shoulders and now floated in the water like a dark-gemmed cloud. She caressed his hair again and stood up.
She washed her hands and dried them on a small, blue towel.
No doubt about it, she would have to head to the store. She would need more bleach than what was left under the sink.
10 Jul 2012, 10:49 pm
