my short story
Two Words to Save the House from Being Washed Away
Sitting on the couch they looked at eachother in silence. The question of what could be done was running simultaneously through each of their heads, yet neither came out with an answer. Ten minutes went by and the silence still prevailed. Only one of the figures noticed the water that was slowly gathering at their feet and crawling up their legs.
The light of one solo lamp shined onto the face of the drowning figure as she realized that she might need to unearth her rain boots from her closet immediately. As she thought of that she realized that if the flooding continued she would most likely need her scuba gear as well.
The water was rising at a quickening pace and when she glanced over at the other, all he did was look down at the floor, at the water that he could not see. This flood could only be stopped by him, but as always he was unaware.
She thought, “How could he not see that this was going to happen? After what he did, how is that possible?” The water touched the start of her knee caps, every inch that it rose it chilled her, but she was getting used to it. “What am I going to do about him? After all these years, never a fight, until now that is.” She thought back to the days of freedom, meeting in Spain when they were both young. It seemed that they had both aged even though it had only been four years. “But oh, how I feel the aging,” she thought. There was tension now, that there had never been in those past years. Tension that was unwelcome and a hard thing to maneuver through, almost like this damn flood that was close to overflowing the seat of the couch at this point.
The other put his feet up on the coffee table and slumped down into the cushions of the now saturated couch. “What a little boy,” she said to herself. She turned her head towards the closet, wondering if it was worth the effort to go over and look for that scuba gear.
She got up, water spilling off her lap and slowly waded through. When she was about halfway down the hall, she heard the other say something, but she couldn’t hear it over the splashing noises that she was making. “What?” she asked him.
“I said, I’m sorry,” he repeated, and the water slowly began to drain away.
Sitting on the couch they looked at eachother in silence. The question of what could be done was running simultaneously through each of their heads, yet neither came out with an answer. Ten minutes went by and the silence still prevailed. Only one of the figures noticed the water that was slowly gathering at their feet and crawling up their legs.
The light of one solo lamp shined onto the face of the drowning figure as she realized that she might need to unearth her rain boots from her closet immediately. As she thought of that she realized that if the flooding continued she would most likely need her scuba gear as well.
The water was rising at a quickening pace and when she glanced over at the other, all he did was look down at the floor, at the water that he could not see. This flood could only be stopped by him, but as always he was unaware.
She thought, “How could he not see that this was going to happen? After what he did, how is that possible?” The water touched the start of her knee caps, every inch that it rose it chilled her, but she was getting used to it. “What am I going to do about him? After all these years, never a fight, until now that is.” She thought back to the days of freedom, meeting in Spain when they were both young. It seemed that they had both aged even though it had only been four years. “But oh, how I feel the aging,” she thought. There was tension now, that there had never been in those past years. Tension that was unwelcome and a hard thing to maneuver through, almost like this damn flood that was close to overflowing the seat of the couch at this point.
The other put his feet up on the coffee table and slumped down into the cushions of the now saturated couch. “What a little boy,” she said to herself. She turned her head towards the closet, wondering if it was worth the effort to go over and look for that scuba gear.
She got up, water spilling off her lap and slowly waded through. When she was about halfway down the hall, she heard the other say something, but she couldn’t hear it over the splashing noises that she was making. “What?” she asked him.
“I said, I’m sorry,” he repeated, and the water slowly began to drain away.