Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! How does he know? How did Dave find out? My marriage is toast, I just know it. The courts will judge Dave to be the primary caregiver of our kids, he’ll be awarded custody. I’ll be a social pariah, shunned by just about everyone in this church-going community. Forgiven by the priest with the soft words but the judging expression. Read More …

GONE IN A MATTER OF MINUTES #4

I’ll let you into a little secret. I hate wankers. You know the guys I mean. The ones who have big bushy beards because some celebrity was photographed with one and all of a sudden all the hipsters have one. The ones with the knees torn out of their jeans because, again, some celebrity was seen like that. One member of this particular sub-breed of wanker was less than amused when I pointed out that this was a re-cycled trend from my youth, the 1980’s. Read More …

POETIC JUSTICE

To this day, I don’t know if it was a sigh, a cough, a breath of air stirred up by my husband’s presence, or something on a more psychic level that made me open my eyes. I do recall having an inane, endorphin spurred goofy grin on my face attesting to the success of John’s recent efforts. Read More …

AT LEAST I STILL HAVE MY BALLS

“But at least I still have my balls, Your Honor.”

I heard my lawyer emit a low hiss and out of the corner of my eye saw his glare directed at me. I thought a guy on an hourly rate as huge as his would have a little more self-control than that. He’d warned, or rather, begged me to stop saying that phrase, citing that we risked losing public sympathy. Public sympathy, apparently, sways judges into handing out shorter sentences.
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COMPULSION – THE EXTENDED VERSION

SPECIAL NOTE: This extended version, adding approximately 3000 words, is thanks to the constructive feedback offered by low8option. Van1 and CTC love constructive criticism and questions. Thank you, low8option, for making us dig deeper on this story. Read More …

COMPULSION

BROOKE REGARDED HERSELF in the bathroom mirror. She was flushed and dishevelled. She held her breath and stood perfectly still. She knew that the smallest movement, even the merest thought, and the zing in her belly, the nerves strung so tight they were like a corset, would twang. Read More …

GAZUMPED

My mind is still split on whether or not I have it in me to inflict the amount of pain I know I’m about to on an innocent party who in no way deserves what is about to go down in the next half-an-hour or so. But I look at the poster-sized photograph of me and Dave on our wedding day hanging above the mantlepiece, through eyes that have shed their last tear over the decline of my mostly happy twenty-eight-year marriage. Those tears happened the whole time I was debating whether or not to go through with this conversation. The conclusion is yes, but I’m still fighting the urge to flee. Dave is going to be devastated. Read More …