It was six o’clock at night. Irene stressed. Slightly disheveled. Dropped ice cubes. Poured whiskey into a glass and rapidly started stirring. Donald would be coming into the house. She’d heard the garage door open and close. “Where’s my drink?” he asked putting down his briefcase. “You know I want it when I get home from work.” “I made it. It’s …
Bruised Heart
November 3, 2020 :: 0 comments
Maria, a forty-year-old divorcée, hoped Frank hadn’t changed his mind. She peered out her living room window. Pedestrians passed, cars eased to the curb, but no sign of Frank. She scooped a handful of jellybeans from the candy dish and popped them into her mouth. She picked at her teeth with a glossy red fingernail. Finally, Frank pulled up front …