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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Mystery · #1990813
A man's issues with the calendar goes awry
I never had to look at the calendar to know what month we're in. I could guess from what happens around. Each month has its own peculiarity but April and March hits us the most. April is the month everything is at its best. March...
We sit at the table eyeing our food. Jane sighs and looks at me. Her almond eyes, unlike any I've seen in the country, which made me fall in love with her, now weary. She scoops a spoonful of the soup and brings it to her mouth. The spoon falls.
"It's March." I say. She looks at me. I can tell she's torn between believing me. Your sentimental madness, she had called it when I lumbered in last March and the March before that and the one before that too and announced I had lost my jobs. Your sentimental madness, she would say again now but she only picks up her spoon and scoops again.
It just had to be March and I can tell. Gramps fell off the stairs just this morning, I was laid off from the factory two days ago, ... her spoon falls again, splattering me with the leafy soup.
"It's March. We would get throu..."
She bangs her fist on the table and points to the calendar behind me.
"Sure we would if you go over and flip it to April. Last month was March."
"Really?"
Those eyes again. Weary eyes. Calendars weren't my business. She made me change it a few days ago and I made a mistake and tampered with the order of things. I flip the calendar and reveal a woman flashing white teeth. Finally, it's... the dining table gives way.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1990813-March