This is Not My Obituary

The morning paper and phone calls

Nothing is at all off or wonky at the 6 o'clock hour. Another whole 60 minutes wasted on nothing in particular. Mr. Li was sitting as he usually did at the head of the table, coffee sort of lazily gripped between his lengthy fingers and the front page of the daily newspaper glued to his expressionless mug.

"Darling," the man's wife ran a set of long, fuchsia, rhinestone encrusted nails through his morning mane. "You'll be late for work if you don't hurry up and finish." She said enticingly, referring to the less than appetizing plate she had so lovingly set in front of him. The man simply smiled with all the love he had for his wife, which in reality wasn't much, and nodded. There was no way in hell he was stomaching that garbage. He'd stuff a few burnt somethings in his pockets and falsey accuse her of some kind of culinary masterpiece. He'd then praise her like he usually did, and head out for work just to get something on the way. Something edible.

He sighed as the womanly figure left his side and he let his eyes rest on the large paper he still gripped in his hands, his attention being caught once he began to actually read the words instead of skim them over.

A pang of regret struck his chest as he read the skinny news blurb over and over again.

" Gou MingRui
August 28th, 1955 - July 13th 1980"

He read it aloud few times just to be sure. But no matter how many times he went over it, the words didn't alter.

He had been good friends with the mentioned man when they were young. They had grown up together along with a few other boys in the neighborhood. It didn't seem right to have such a young man pass away like that, and so unexpected as well. It didn't seem fair.

"Oh, honey I'm so sorry." Lona,His wife laid her hands on his shoulders as he grabbed one of them and squeezed it gently. "Thank you darling." He said softly, folding the paper and standing up from wooden chair and making his way to the phone secured to the kitchen wall, fingers hesitant to dial a certain number. All the years he had promised he'd never call this number again melted away. He'd swallow harsh word and tongue for the sake of his dear old friend Gou MingRui. They had been so close; they had practically been brothers.

The man exhaled his fears and punched in the digits and waited. A dial tone, then the other receiver was being picked up.

"Hello?" The line crackled a bit. The other end was loud as the echo of music carried through the phone. He stayed quiet for a minute.
"Hey Hanyu how are you?"

"Zihao?"

:::::::::::

Xinlong was cuddled close to his wife, her body sat snuggly on his lap as they watched the sun rise for the morning. The two had been up for an hour already, unable to keep their hands to themselves. "It's so much prettier when I'm watching it with you." She sighed in content, pressing a kiss to Xinlong's humidity curls. He let the pleasant feeling of their closeness keep him satisfied as an interrupting knock came at the front door, alerting the two that their mail had arrived.

"I don't want to get up." She giggled, resting a tender hand on the man's structured cheek, looking him over with an unholy intention. The two couldn't stop from touching each other. They were like rabbits in spring with no one to tell them otherwise. And why would they? They're a young married couple, it was only natural. "I don't want to either." He husked, firming his grip on her waist. She squeaked out cutely as he dug the pad of his thumb into the soft stomach the woman sported. His wife was no size two, but she was oh so sexy and He Xinlong wouldn't want her any other way. He loved and lusted after the curvy and soft exterior she had.