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It was dark. Again I had forgotten to pay my electricity bill. Who knew a final notice was sowellfinal. Alone, big surprise. Again my wife had forgotten to come home. So I hadn't had a steady check in six months give or take, and we had to move into a studio on the lower east side with neighbors who constantly bicker in Spanish. I lit a candle. There was a note with a key next to it carefully set on our coffee table. I pocketed the key and scanned the note in the dim lighting knowing full well Audrey had put it there. She left me. Oh well we didn't get along that well anyway. In all reality I genuinely disliked her.

I stepped into the corner that had an oven and a fridge; also known as the kitchen. I opened the fridge and felt the lunchmeat. It was still relatively cold so I munched a few slices. After chowing down on the probably salmonella ridden meat, I strolled over to the closet holding the candle I had lit only moments before. All her clothes were gone. Hmmmmaybe she meant it this time when she said I packed all my stuff and I'm filing for a divorce and a restraining order.
I kicked off my loafers and shrugged off my sport coat. Most men would cry about now; nothing left-no woman, no job, no electricity, and surely since rent was due in a week an eviction notice up and coming. Oh no, not I. It was time for bed. I think I'll schedule cry time between breakfast and blowing my brains out. But that isn't until tomorrow.

Learn more about this author, Amanda Horst.
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