HOME | DD

Description
All was silent except for the gentle hum of the appliances in the kitchen and I began to wonder what he had done now – I swear to God, if he touched those curtains - I step into the open living room only to find him there motionless and sitting.
Sitting on our pristine little couch with vodka bottle and shot glass in hand. I roll my emerald eyes and drape my mink coloured wool coat and matching purse on the azure loveseat in front of me, hoping for some sort of acknowledgement.
Nothing.
He sits there motionless.
Motionless and staring.
Staring at those silly little Christmas lights blinking in the frosted window.
The silly little lights he insisted on getting at – What was that sad little store called? Was it the Dollar Store?  I’m sure it had had a proper name – “It only lights Amy.  It doesn’t matter where we get them.” He assured me as I protested him tossing them into the shopping basket.
I turn and glide into the kitchen to put away the items I’d gone to pick up at the store, “You know Doug, you need not ignore me, I am the one who is supposed to be pissed, remember?”  I look over my shoulder with hopes of a response only to find that he has silently made his drunken way over to the window with vodka bottle still in hand.
I shake my head in disproval, “Fine, Doug.  Go ahead and feel sorry for yourself, but was getting drunk really ness-” I whip around at the sound of my curtains clattering to the hardwood floor, “Doug!”  I wail as I see a sneer cross his pale lips and rush across the kitchen and into the living room – What is it with you and those damn indigo speckled curtains? – I stop dead in my tracks as his delighted face vanishes into one of pain and sorrow.
“What the hell is your problem Doug?  Why are you acting like such a child?” – He turns his back to me as he shifts his weight against the window frame – “Doug, don’t you turn-” I gasp as my hands wisp right through his solid shoulders.  I stand there in shock as I watch him slide down the wall to the floor amongst the pool of blue curtains.
That’s right, now I remember – Soap.  I was supposed to pick up soap.
I turned back around in a dangerous snowstorm to get some stupid soap, all because I was still too mad to go home.  I let my weight go and slide down to the floor beside the man I love, alone.
Alone and wishing I had just come home that night.
Alone and in a pool of misery and fucking curtains.
Alone and in a world so far from his and aching to have not been so foolish.
Then maybe, just maybe, I wouldn’t be sitting here alone with the man I love.

Description
All was silent except for the gentle hum of the appliances in the kitchen and I began to wonder what he had done now – I swear to God, if he touched those curtains - I step into the open living room only to find him there motionless and sitting.
Sitting on our pristine little couch with vodka bottle and shot glass in hand. I roll my emerald eyes and drape my mink coloured wool coat and matching purse on the azure loveseat in front of me, hoping for some sort of acknowledgement.
Nothing.
He sits there motionless.
Motionless and staring.
Staring at those silly little Christmas lights blinking in the frosted window.
The silly little lights he insisted on getting at – What was that sad little store called? Was it the Dollar Store?  I’m sure it had had a proper name – “It only lights Amy.  It doesn’t matter where we get them.” He assured me as I protested him tossing them into the shopping basket.
I turn and glide into the kitchen to put away the items I’d gone to pick up at the store, “You know Doug, you need not ignore me, I am the one who is supposed to be pissed, remember?”  I look over my shoulder with hopes of a response only to find that he has silently made his drunken way over to the window with vodka bottle still in hand.
I shake my head in disproval, “Fine, Doug.  Go ahead and feel sorry for yourself, but was getting drunk really ness-” I whip around at the sound of my curtains clattering to the hardwood floor, “Doug!”  I wail as I see a sneer cross his pale lips and rush across the kitchen and into the living room – What is it with you and those damn indigo speckled curtains? – I stop dead in my tracks as his delighted face vanishes into one of pain and sorrow.
“What the hell is your problem Doug?  Why are you acting like such a child?” – He turns his back to me as he shifts his weight against the window frame – “Doug, don’t you turn-” I gasp as my hands wisp right through his solid shoulders.  I stand there in shock as I watch him slide down the wall to the floor amongst the pool of blue curtains.
That’s right, now I remember – Soap.  I was supposed to pick up soap.
I turned back around in a dangerous snowstorm to get some stupid soap, all because I was still too mad to go home.  I let my weight go and slide down to the floor beside the man I love, alone.
Alone and wishing I had just come home that night.
Alone and in a pool of misery and fucking curtains.
Alone and in a world so far from his and aching to have not been so foolish.
Then maybe, just maybe, I wouldn’t be sitting here alone with the man I love.