It’s An Ugly Pattern

. . . what’ll happen if I do? . . . the kids . . .

Standing here looking at it I decide it’s ugly. Well, maybe not quite that, but it’s not very attractive. If the glass had turned more to the left it would have splashed in that direction and the lobe of liquid would have created an accent to the vinyls pattern. Just a glass of iced tea, but it would have been better on the vinyl floor instead of the carpet. Of course hitting the carpet prevented the glass from shattering.

. . . be here soon . . . tell him what? . . . doesn’t matter . . . won’t listen . . . Sound . . . what? . . . . door . . .

“What happened? Stel, what’s going on? Talk to me ... Stella?”

“I dropped the tea.”

“I see that. What happened? And why do you have that in your hand? You should put that back in the drawer. Stella? What the hell is going on!”

“Shhh, don’t yell, you always jump to yelling first.”

“Well, you’re not answering me.”

“Maybe I don’t want to.”

“But ... you have too.”

“No, I don’t. And I don’t think I want to any more. That’s why this is in my hand.”

“Uhh, Stel, Uhh let’s talk—“

“No! Leave now!. I refuse to knuckle under to your bullying attitudes.”

“I’ve never touched you!”

“Bullying doesn’t have to be physical. And you haven’t touched me for a while. But, you do have that new ‘Sexitary,’ what’s her name? And all that recent late night work you have to get done? Right.”

“That is NOT true.”

“That’s not what a couple of your coworkers say.”

“Who? Who said that? That’s BULLSHIT!”

“Leave or I will use this 9mm G19 and blow your damned lying brains all over that freshly painted wall behind you.”

“But—“

“No! Leave!”

“Can I take—“

“Come back tomorrow when I’m not here to get your stuff.”