came home to find her staring at me, sat in the comfortable armchair by the fire. I was shocked to see her after all this time. The last words we spoke were still fresh in my mind. I could still feel their burn, their poisonous sting. I had always regretted what had come after. The inevitable departure. All that blood. Her clothes were torn where the knife had pierced through, revealing her wounds beneath. I didn’t know why she had been dug up and placed here. It was only important that somebody else had. I knew I was next.
he sudden clenched fist to my stomach made me double over, gasp and heave for breath. It wasn’t as painful as the words that followed, each blow punctuated with ‘Queer’ or ‘Gayboy’. Not creative but still. The others egged him on with their jeers and laughter. He slammed me once more against the lockers and walked away, followed by his sycophantic cronies. He looked back to me over his shoulder. The others probably thought he was gloating but I saw his sorrowful regret. I knew he would call me later and I would still answer. That’s what love does. It forgives.
he party was already boring. My wife and I were doing the usual mingling small talk until I saw her. What had started out as a thrilling rendezvous once a week with her had escalated to a regular addiction. She gave me her secret special smile that was just for me. I turned before my wife could see but it was too late. She saw and she knew. But then she smirked too. They came together and held hands, watching me. My heart raced and I broke into a blissful grin. That soon changed. They left together. I wasn’t invited.
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