Brian picked himself up and gathered the broken halves of his thick, black-rimmed glasses. He turned as Sophie reached him.
“What did we do?” she asked, looking at the pack of bullies as they walked away laughing .
“I don’t know, Sophie. But don’t worry about them. As long as we’re together everything’ll be alright.”
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He stood silently.
“Come on,” she said. “For me.”
Still he said nothing.
“Think of all we’ve been through, the memories. Think about the future we’ve planned. Don’t throw it all away. I’m just asking this one little thing.”
She pleaded with her eyes. He blinked, turned on his heels, and walked away for good.
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Thomas nearly lost hope after fourteen years. Today, however, the sun shone brightly and a warm breeze raised goosebumps on his neck. A cacophony of wildflowers bloomed across the road while fat, striped bumblebees danced in time from petal to petal.
Thomas walked to the bus stop, head held high, clutching the paper stamped “Pardoned.”
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At long last the kids were quiet, and Mark had finished enough tasks that he felt justified going to bed. Midnight had long past, and soon someone would be asking, “Daddy, what’s for breakfast?”
Closing his eyes, he felt thankful for today and overwhelmed at the prospect of tomorrow. He had never imagined parenting alone.
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Theo leaned forward to study the board in front of him, mapping out pieces and moves, calculations and iterations.
Gary leaned back and casually sipped his water, silently watching Theo’s eyes dart about the board.
Theo made his move and looked up.
Gary smiled, slowly leaned in and made a move of his own.
“Checkmate.”
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He lay in bed, lights out. He was drenched in sweat and his nerves were shot. The lone thought racing through his mind: “Could he score again before it was too late?”
His wife walked into the bedroom and started to speak. “Hon-”
“Not now!” he cried. “It’s 1 – nil with only five minutes left.”
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John couldn’t breathe. He was stunned by what he reading. The details were too familiar, too fresh for the truth to be anything else. How could this be? He had always thought his marriage a happy one, but the anonymous blog on monitor in front of him was as plain as day:
www.ihatemymarriage.com
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He took a drag on his cigarette and spit out the smoke. “I’m not goin’ back there. They can kiss my ass!”
“You’ll go back… and you know it.”
“No way… not after what they did!”
“Despite what they did. Your family has Mr. Vitrolli to thank for everything. This is the price of opportunity.”
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Hope everyone enjoyed the Easter Holiday. Back to the stories this week…
Frank sipped the cup of stale, tepid coffee and considered what he was doing. He thought about that tiny, newborn girl and her beautiful mother, starting life over with nothing. It broke him. Laying a handful of change on the counter, he returned to his car and began the long, bleary-eyed journey back home.
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Pete’s heart nearly gave out when the door flew open. Too many sleepless nights hiding in fear had frayed his nerves. Adrenaline surged through his veins…
Only it wasn’t the police. It was a familiar woman’s face. As she told them what had happened that morning, Pete’s eyes widened. “What do you mean it’s empty?”
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