Poured gin in my coffee 10 minutes ago. Sour. The amount of times I’ve sat in my kitchen with a good idea fits on one hand. The amount of times. Amount of times. TIMES. Court is in 20 minutes. I’ve forgotten again.
7 voice mails and 10 missed calls later:
Pinning glares from her end of the court. Next to her
attorney, she looks awfully sophisticated. I sign the divorce certificate like I
would a receipt. Just making a return, like the sweaters I picked out. She said
they were itchy.
I expect the judge to ask if I’d like store credit or just cash.
“I have a list of other women with credentials similar to your ex-spouse”, he would
say. I’d ask for cash because I don’t plan on returning.
But he doesn’t ask that and she’s wearing a sweater.
I dig your writing.
ReplyDeletethis might sound really odd,
ReplyDeletebut your writing is sexy as hell.
it fills a void in my very very single heart.
well done.
Haha, first comment to make me laugh.
DeleteI agree with everything said.
ReplyDeleteDamn... I just can't get enough of you writing.