This is one of my own creations for this week’s exercise. I’m trying to show emotions without it standing out. Also, I’m trying to show inner strength and composure.
She could hear him in the bedroom opening and closing drawers. It was a familiar sound. One the woman heard every day. Yet today, it grated on her nerves.
She glanced at the clock on the stove. Just one hour more and then she’s free for a while.
The sounds had changed. It wasn’t the annoying banging of wood against wood anymore. Chances were he was getting dressed and trying to watch TV at the same time. If you asked him why he had such a hard time doing both of these things at the same time, he’s probably tell you it’s because he hurts. She had no doubt about the pain. She knew it was real. She just couldn’t comprehend why he insisted on try to do both every day when he knew he should concentrate on how he got dressed so it wouldn’t hurt at much.
She continued to sip her coffee and gazed out the window at creation doing its thing in the early days of winter. There were still a few brilliant colored leaves hanging onto the branches of otherwise bare trees. A hawk flew overhead in the stillness of the gray sky.
Unexpectedly, a doe ambled through the woods just beyond the property line. The young female wasn’t in a hurry, knowing she was safe in the forest behind the seasoned neighborhood. Something alerted her. Her ears stood straight up and stiff, and her neck long and so ever slightly forward. Her head turned and she seemed to be looking right inside the window. Abruptly, she leaped away to the depths of the timberland.
He bellowed up the hall. “Want me to get pizza before coming home?”
The woman placed her mug on the kitchen table and gazed into the glaring light of the light fixture above her.
“Did you hear me?” he blared.
In a raised voice, she said, “Yeah, pizza sounds great.”
All of a sudden, there he was, standing in the double wide doorway to the living room and the hall. He looked good for a man in his late forties. His hair was gray through the temples and in front of his ears, giving him a distinguished appearance. He strutted over to the table, gave her a brief kiss and headed out the back door.
The woman pinched her lips shut, laid her chin in her hand prompted by her elbow, and gaped at nothing beyond the window pane. Defeat washed over her and she let three tears fall down her cheek before she pulled herself up, put the dishes in the dishwasher, and strode down the hall to prepare for another day.
How did I do? Be brutal if you must.
When it goes wrong, you feel like cutting your throat, but you go on. You don’t let anything get you down so much that it beats you or stops you. – George Cukor