Windows

 woman in red small

WINDOWS

 

If the eyes are the window to the soul, what am I saying?

“Look at me,” I yelled.
His eyes downcast.

“You slept with her didn’t you?”
“Of course not! I love you, I’d never do that to you!”

I looked and saw battered, broken blinds and thought about Joel in accounting.

“I love you too,” I said. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be so jealous.”
“I’m sorry too,” he said. “I should have called.”

When we climaxed, the sound was like shattering glass.

 

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