I sometimes write a short story either in Portuguese or English.
Herewith a short story I wrote this week.
Comments are welcome.
Have a nice weekend.
She was sitting across the table in their dining room looking accusingly at him with some sort of a hurt look in her eyes.
He shifted nervously on his chair. “Don’t you stare at me like that”, he mumbled.
5 Years they had been together and never, ever so much as a hard word between them. She had always been there for him, had always played along with his silly demands.
Her name was Isabella but of late in secret he had started calling her Miss Piggy because of a sometimes puffed up, inflated look which she seemed to acquire when the central heating was on too high. Nevertheless, and to be honest, after all these years she still looked just like when they had first met: neither an ounce more nor an ounce less, her breasts just as firm, her stomach just as flat and her waist just as small. Perhaps her long blond hair was now a little less shiny.
- Well, you know, it is not your fault but we, men, are biologically programmed to become attracted to other women at times. We are meant to sow our oats in different fields. Like I said: you and I have had it. It’s over.
If she had heard this, her impassive face didn’t reveal any emotion but still he felt there was a quaint look in her eyes.
Anger perhaps for being dumped from one day to the other.
Despair possibly because of being relegated to a mere ornament in their home.
Resentment maybe, because in spite of always having satisfied the creepiest of his desires, she was now being thanked in such an ungrateful manner.
Hatred, most likely, for having been used and abused so many times and certainly loath for the man, whose clumsy painful groping and passionate slobbery kisses she had had to endure so often.
He couldn’t tell exactly which of these sentiments she unleashed onto him but he knew he could no longer bear the way she looked at him.
Quivering under her gaze, he picked up the bread knife from the table in front of him, hardened his grip on it, bent over and plunged the blade deep into her ribcage just below her up tilted left breast where her heart was supposed to be.
Something like a faint sigh was heard. She shuddered and her head rolled sideward, her arms now hanging limp beside her body.
He pushed his chair back, stood up, walked over, lifted her shrivelled remains from the chair and put them in a large plastic supermarket bag.
After wiping his hands on his trousers, he tore open a carton package delivered by express mail that morning and withdrew its contents, complete with a repair pad.
He switched on an air pump and elatedly started to inflate his new girlfriend, a black-haired and long desired beauty, US$ 29,90, guaranteed satisfaction or money back,
size 96-54-86, called Jezebella.