The Separation Four

The Young Man

Strangely,

because he’d been dreading this day,

dreading this time,

now that it was here,

though,

glad to be done with it.

The young man had resigned himself

that if this is what his wife wants,

if this is what his wife really wants,

then, okay!

Fine!

Fuck it!

And if she wants me out of her life,

then fuck her, too!

But, he’d thought,

I’m going to make damned sure

she knows what she’s throwing away!

The young man wore dark brown slacks and,

because it was his favourite colour

—especially when he had a tan—

a yellow sport shirt,

his new white poplin jacket

and brown penny loafers.

Leaving the house at one-forty-five,

taking a few minutes short of an hour to get downtown

the car parked in the lot across from the County building.

Though he’d conditioned himself into thinking,

fuck it,

waiting for the elevator,

expecting to bump into his wife at any moment,

breathing a sigh of relief as the door opened,

he stepped inside.

Glancing at the elevator operator,

“Five, please.”

Coming off the elevator,

turning right,

he began to walk

and…

She saw him…

To be continued

©November 1, 2011 / Mark M. Lichterman