'The Door Slammed' by Steve Ellis

'Puncture' courtesy of Pixabay.com

That afternoon, my wife came home from work early and found me in bed with another woman.  As she entered our bedroom her disbelieving eyes stared wide in horror; her mouth was distorted with pain and despair, a silent scream frozen on her lips. But there were no tears, I remember. The dam would burst later.


I had always painstakingly ensured that my wife and the other woman never met, but that day I made mistakes. It was almost as if, in my heart of hearts, I wanted them to meet. I wonder…do we ever truly know ourselves, our deepest motivations, our desires?


The other woman casually, even brazenly, lying on our marriage bed was obviously unafraid, unapologetic and showed no emotion. With her long, tangled blonde hair hanging loosely, messily around her shoulders, her smudged garish lipstick, ripped bra and f*ck-me shoes, I suddenly saw this woman in a new light, as if through my wife’s eyes. I turned away in disgust, unable to look either woman in the eye.


The door slammed. The woman beside me had been holding her breath and finally exhaled. Just when I thought that things couldn’t get any worse, she had a puncture.


Copyright owned by Steve Ellis, January 2019