Heartbreak [short piece]
Something had gone silent. It’s as if she had allowed a portion of her heart to fall asleep. If she moved around too much; or too suddenly — it might shatter.
It appalled her — the ease with which his new life began. Without tears or gashes of any kind. Just a heady sort of uncertainty. No devastation, not even a courteous collapse. He drew strength from her. It shocked and enraged her. How can such a thing be.
It was mostly the sleeping that she missed. His weight — which while considerable — nonetheless matched her own. It was a drug. The truth that he found this drug elsewhere — stop, no — she rushed it away. It was too painful a thought to hold still inside for too long.
Apparently Madam had said that she needed passion in her life. Oh. So she kicked him out of the house in the middle of a cold, foggy night — bleary eyed, hailing a taxi cab, spitting his anger onto the uncaring sidewalk.
Tongues clicked after that. There was no quieting the silence that hushed rooms seconds after she entered them. Each person understood a piece of her to own and display with relish. “he tired her” “there were other lovers”
“No, she loved him. She always had and always will.” “she wore a garland made of his shoes at night”
“she tried to slice his cheek open once” “madness”
She never slept.