They were sitting quietly at the table.
Out of the blue, however, she started whistling some monotonous little tune she had heard that morning at the gym and had gotten stuck in her head since.
She stopped.
“You’re not fun anymore,” she said, reproachfully. “C’mon, make me laugh! I wanna laugh aloud.”
He stared at her and realized he didn’t love her.
“And why exactly do I have to make you laugh?” he said. “Why don’t you say something funny or witty for a change? Huh?”
Stunned by his words, she froze up, mouth agape.
“Fuck you!” she suddenly shrieked. “You senseless, selfish, can’t-get-it-up-tonight-honey, old fart! You know what? It’s fucking over!” she said, dramatically tossing her napkin on the table. “I’ve had it. You will never be with a woman like me again. You’ll be beggin’ for someone remotely as beautiful as me to even look at you by mistake.”
He smiled.
“I don’t need as beautiful as you. I can do just fine with half as beautiful but twice as clever, which is not a lot to ask to be honest.”
“Fuck you, you fucking fuck!”
“That really shows range in your vocabulary,” he said.
“I don’t need to be able to recite the fucking dictionary to get sum—I’ve got these for that,” she said squeezing her rock-hard tits.
He laughed.
“Those you do have, I’ll give you that. But please, darling, I think it’s time we part ways––you’ve had enough, and so have I” As he said this he gestured with his hand towards the door. “I think I can manage alone without your superb company.”
She was sure he wouldn’t dare kick her out.
This was not the first time she’d tried putting him down like that. Nonetheless, it was the first time she was genuinely taken aback by his unexpected arrogance and confidence, which is why she resorted on the spot to ask for his forgiveness.
“C’mon, darling… You’re better than this,” he said. “Get up. Get your things and move on with your life, will you? Leave me be.”
When words failed her, she tried hugging him and kissing him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean what I said—I love you!”
He gently pushed her away.
“I know I’m old, but I’m not stupid. Here,” he stretched out his arm; in his hand a wad of bills rested.
She hesitated for a second before snatching the money.
He then handed her her purse and helped her to her coat.
“I’ll send you the rest of your clothes.”
“I’ll see you in court, motherfucker… I hope you rot in hell!”
Tears were running down her cheeks as she stormed out of his house.
He watched her leave and then stared at the door for a few moments after so as to make sure she wouldn’t come back.
Silence.
“Third time’s a charm my ass,” he said, walking over to his bar. “I’m never getting married again, that’s for sure.”
Once again he was alone.
75 years old and all alone. What a delight!
He poured himself a glass of whisky, walked over to where his stereo was, gently placed a record on, and as the music began he waved his right hand in the air like an orchestra conductor.
He turned the volume all the way up and then removed all of his clothes.
For the following nine minutes of ‘Free Bird,’ he danced happily naked around his house, his whole anatomy dangling to the beat.
Lord, I can’t change
Won’t you fly high, free bird, yeah…
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The whole world is waiting outside to beat you up, you gotta stand in your own corner.
Those psychos though... the sex is off the hook... they should try selling that in a can of pringles.
Brilliant, I'm putting this in DREAD Reviews 20