He drove straight home. He didn't want to lose his nerve. It was Wednesday. She would be back from her tennis lesson. He stopped in the foyer, unable to move. He could still back out. He could still go back to his office. But he heard her walking upstairs and he knew he owed her an explanation. He went into the library to wait for her to come down and to plan what to say. No jury address had ever been more difficult. It was his life, his decision. Things change. People change. Feelings change. Life doesn't take a straight path. There are holes in the road. There are surprises around every turn. Some are bad. Some are good. Nothing lasts forever.

There were her footsteps on the stairs.
           "You look terrible." Carly bounced into the room, books under her arm, sunglasses perched on the top of her head. Her hair, still damp from her shower, was up in a ponytail. She fished into the bowl of trail mix on her father's desk, hunting for the almonds. "I'm late. Gotta run."

"I met someone," Jordan tried.

"Oh. Who?" She was more intent on the nuts than on conversation.

"A woman. Suzanne is her name."

Carly swivelled her head, gluing her eyes to Jordan's face. She froze.

"We met at Joe's goodbye. I've been seeing her."

She stared at him, her face expressionless. Not a muscle twitched as the hand on the wall clock ticked off three, four, five seconds. Carly closed her fist around a handful of the nuts and seeds, turned and slammed out of the room.

          The dust motes danced. Jordan sighed.  It's been two years,

                                                                                             

Dust Motes Dancing          4

Previous          Next

Magazine / Web Design by Sharon Berg

 

~ << >> ~

 

All work within this periodical is copyrighted by the authors and Big Pond Rumour, July 2007. No part to be copied or reproduced without written consent of the authors and Big Pond Rumour Press.

Previous          Next