Wednesday, June 20, 2012

the other side

Honey I'm home, he says. Maybe he's been traveling the world, soaking in a Sri Lankan sunrise or riding camels in Morocco. He's been gone for weeks maybe, or months. Maybe he's been in New York visiting his sick brother, or maybe he's been sitting in traffic in Los Angeles. There's a chance he was just across town, needing to get away for a little while, needing some silence and peacefulness so that he could hear himself think, or maybe he's been on tour with the band who have finally made their way back where they started. Maybe he is married to her or maybe they're dating or maybe he hasn't seen her in years, maybe she doesn't know what she's going to get when she opens that door and maybe neither does he, but honey I'm home, he says, and with a quick glance at his watch he hears footsteps as she walks towards the door where the man with the cognac bag is waiting on just the other side.

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