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He comes home. His wife is hidden away in some random closet in the house, sobbing loudly. She hears him come home, hears him announce his presence as usual - recieving no response- and immidiately quiets herself.

Walking in the door on this day - as just about every other noteworhty day - he is guilty of nothing any other person might be guilty of on any given day. Perhaps he didn't tip his waitress, or perhaps he was impatient with the old people in front of him at a traffic light, but he has commited no real wrongs on this day. He is curious and slightly worried when his wife - usually home from work before him - does not respond to his arrival.

Is she mad at him? Will he go upstairs to find her stewing over some forgotten toilet seat? If he goes into the living room will he discover her with her hand on her hip, having found another traffic ticket? No, he can't think of anything like that. Did somthing happen to her? No, he's seen her shoes and jacket...she's definately here, or was recently.

He quickly scans the rooms nearest to him before going upstairs to check the bedroom and bathroom. Nothing. He's stumped, what's going on? He picks up his cell phone and calls a few people, checking around. Nothing. He calls her work, "No..she went home, Sir. I'm sorry, can't help you."

All the while she is frozen in her place, not making a sound. She can feel more sobs and whimpers rising but she fights them off, not wanting to be discovered. She waits a long time before leaving her spot. It's well after midnight and she knows he's given up for now and gone to bed, probably with a knot in his throat and worry draped on his crown. She goes upstairs to their bedroom and stands in the shadows of the doorway, watching her lover sleep restlessly. She is there a little while before walking slowly downstairs again.

For some reason, she is unsatisfied with tonight. She had no plan, and no fair reason to behaive so strangly, but she's unsatisfied. She finds the nearest medicine cabinet, selects a few bottles, and heads for the kitchen. She takes 27 advil, 35 tylenol, 6 mydol, and 17 asprin with water. She takes out her favorite wine glass and pours a miture of red whine and vodka. She has four glasses of the mixture in a half hour before stumbling into the livingroom. She practically falls onto her favorite couch, sheds a few more stray tears, and passes out.




The end. dont ask me, I don't know, it's what was going through my mind.