© Copyright 2015 - All rights reserved - Mimaster
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Neil... we need to talk."
He stood at the end of the hallway, staring at his wife as she sat on the loveseat. The somber expression on her pretty face made his heart flutter. She didn't appear to be upset, or distraught. But Ann's body language told him she was serious, and he froze, wondering what was going on.
He had just gotten up, sleeping in until about ten, which wasn't all that unusual when he worked second shift. After all, he'd get home most nights around a quarter to one, and he could never go to sleep right away; he'd be too keyed up from just getting off work. Instead, he'd try to unwind, watching some late night television before heading to bed around two in the morning.
Of course that wasn't always the case when he came home. Sometimes he'd unwind by having sex with Ann, who'd stay up waiting for him to come home. It was part of her promise to do everything she could to keep their sex life from suffering just because of unusual hours his job sometimes required. There were other times she'd wait, getting him up in the morning by sucking on his stiff cock, or even going so far as to fuck him awake. And then there were the mid-morning romps around the house that he'd grown to love.
He'd been looking forward to one of those, waking up horny, not bothering to dress. He'd come out of the bedroom naked, looking for his always horny wife in hopes of enticing her back into the bedroom.
That feeling left him with her words, his thriving erection deflating in front of her eyes as he looked at her, processing what she'd just said.
"What's wrong, Ann?" he asked, noticeably nervous of what her answer might be.
Patting the cushion next to her, she shook her head. "Please, baby. We just need to talk."
"Sure, let me go put something on," he said, turning to retrieve his boxers from the bedroom floor.
"It's okay... just come here and sit with me please."
It felt odd, what with her fully dressed and him buck naked as he sat next to her. But his eyes were locked onto hers, seeing the fatigue behind them. It was obvious she hadn't slept, and it was from something that was weighing heavily on her mind.
"What is it?" he asked impatiently, wanting to remove the proverbial band-aid off the wound as quickly as possible, hoping to avoid any pain.
Taking a deep breath, she reached for his hand. He felt her trembling, and he braced himself, sucking in as she squeezed his fingers lightly.
"I... I'm not happy."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"It was a dark and stormy night," she said to herself, a little chuckle coming out as she turned the page of her book. It wasn't something she'd just read. It wasn't something she'd
expect
to read in a cheap romance novel like the one she was holding, that line more suited for a suspense story or murder mystery. But there she was, reading as a storm actually raged outside on a dreary night. Somehow she found humor in that, the circumstances appealing to her sense of irony.
She was used to thunderstorms, having grown up in the Midwest. In some ways, she enjoyed them more now, watching the clouds roll over the mountains from the west, and how the lightning would illuminate them. It was late; the storm coming after night had fallen. And while the lightning flashed and the thunder rolled, she knew it wasn't like a normal storm, mainly because it was colder; the front rolling through in late autumn.
She sighed, thinking about how there might not be any leaves left on the trees once this particular storm swept through. Autumn was so spectacular where they lived, with the brilliant colors and crisp, fresh air. She and Neil had just recently gone to a couple orchards to pick apples, having donuts and hot cider as part of the experience. It had become one of her favorites seasons. But as the chilly rain battered the windows of the patio door, coming in waves as the wind howled, she knew what was just around the corner. It was as if it was knocking on that very door with each strong gust. Winter was closer than she cared to admit. In some ways it felt like it had already arrived.
Soft jazz played on the stereo in the background as she curled up underneath a blanket on the loveseat. It was her favorite place in the living room. Neil had his Lay-Z-Boy, the big overstuffed rocker positioned perfectly for him to watch TV. And there was the couch across from her, which helped separate the great room; becoming a divider between the dining area and the living room. But she loved that comfy loveseat. It looked perfect between the two front windows, a decorative lamp centered on the end table next to it providing light. She had the three-way bulb on the lowest wattage so as not to create a glare on the pages.
She was leaning back into some big, fluffy pillows, her legs curled beneath her body as she read. Her stomach started rumbling, sounding a little like the thunder outside. It dawned on her that she hadn't eaten anything since lunch, and it was now after eight. She thought about stopping, but she was almost done with the chapter she was reading.
She was on the last paragraph when there was a huge crack, the ground shaking from the boom of the lightning bolt that had obviously struck nearby. Instantly the lights flickered, before going out altogether. She was left sitting there in the dark, only the flashes from the storm filling the room.
"Great," she groaned sarcastically as she put down her book.
Padding across the carpet in her slippers, she carefully made her way down the hall. She was wearing a big, cowl-necked sweater and a pair of tight fitting leggings. She didn't know how long the power would be out, but she assumed it would be a while like the few previous times it had happened. She didn't want to wait before putting something else on to keep warm. If indeed it took a long time to come back on, she'd start to get cold, and there'd be no warming up once that happened.
She found her thick robe in her closet, knowing exactly where it would be just inside the door. Returning to the living room, she opened some cupboards looking for candles and a lighter. She rummaged around, not finding what she was looking for, before remembering she'd put them in the pantry.
Lighting a couple tea candles, she settled back into the loveseat, pulling the blanket over her lower body. Instead of reading, she just stared out the window, listening to the pouring rain pound on the roof.
She woke up in a startled daze, another loud boom crashing nearby. She was unsure of where she was; her heart racing. Then it all came to her... the storm, no power, the flickering of the candle behind her head. She could already feel the chill in the room, and she wondered what time it was. She was hungry, but she couldn't cook anything, and she'd eaten the last of the deli meat for lunch.
Carrying one of the candles, she made her way back to the kitchen, finding some crackers in the pantry. Pulling out the jar of peanut butter, she realized it was almost empty, a stark reminder of the list she'd placed on the refrigerator earlier in the evening. She needed to go to the store.
She scraped enough out of the jar to make six peanut butter crackers. Grabbing one of the apples they'd picked out of the crisper, she cut it up, throwing the core in the trash under the sink. Pulling out a bottle of wine from the fridge, she poured a glass, sitting at the kitchen table. The meager meal brought back memories. She was suddenly back in her early twenties and out on her own for the first time, forced to practically eat rations in order to make ends meet. But she recalled how fulfilled she was, making her own way in the world.
Moving back to the loveseat after she put her plate in the sink, she sat there in the dim glow of the candles, another glass of wine in her hand. She sipped from it gracefully, the Zinfandel filling her in ways the simple meal could not. Having little to eat, the warm buzz hit her quickly and she relaxed.
Her mind wandered again, back to that time in her life when things were different. Not better, and in some ways, not worse. But they were different. She was on her own, struggling, having to claw and scratch her way up in the world. The mental scars were still there even now, reminders of the wounds she'd endured being a naïve girl who had to learn how to survive through trial and error.
