SWEET CONFUSIONS

    Quiet as a mouse, she walked in her apartment. She just came from the airport. Working and travelling came hand in hand. Gone for a week, even months on projects assigned to her. It’s 6 in the morning. Doubt that her husband was awake at this hour. Sunlight creeps through the windows, giving a little light. Dropping her luggage, she tiptoed towards the bedroom careful not to kick any beer bottles that littered the floor. Maybe he had a party last night. She slides under the covers. He’s facing the opposite direction, she embraces him. Rubbing her cheek against his back made him stir in his sleep. She felt his smooth arm wrap behind her back.     Her eyes wide open. Wait, this can’t be right. If I’m hugging him from his back, it would be impossible that his arms would reach all the way behind my back. Yoga classes must’ve made him flexible. Did he shave his arms? Why is it smooth? Why is his skin so white? He bleached his skin? Lifting his arm, he never let his nails grow this long. He wears red nail polish!? Her eyes grew even wider. She jumps off the bed. Hands shaking. Her knuckles white as she grips, and pulls the covers careful not to wake them. Heart beating fast, she hoped that arm doesn’t come with a body. She blinks several times, in her bed a blonde woman with her husband (Soon to be ex-husband), NAKED!     I can’t believe my eyes. I don’t know what to do. I must be dreaming. (Pinches arm) Nope, I’m awake. Cold sweat broke out all over my body. Punching the air. I screamed silently. Pacing back and forth, thinking what to do. My inner demons giving me ideas. Should I kill them? Should I bash their heads? A baseball bat would have been useful. A rock! Dang it! I only have pebbles that won’t do at all. I should get a knfe or a machete, jump on the bed and hack them into pieces? No, no, no too bloody. Oh it makes me queasy just imagining blood. I got it! Acid and pour it on their faces. That would melt their ugly faces! Ugggh, I forgot I only have vinegar. I want to kill them not marinade them. Come on think. THINK!   I love him... I loved him... I’m done.       She took a picture of herself with the two sleeping at the background. She grabbed a couple of her stuff, and took the fruit basket. Rolling her luggage out the door, she sent the picture to her lawyer with a caption in big, bold red letters, “I want a divorce.”