People ask me how long I've been married like time is some significant achievement. The truth is I don't know how long my wife and I have been together. In fact, the question seems strange. She's a part of me. An extension of who I am. Would somebody ask how long I've been with my hand or my leg? The duration is irrelevant. Because just like a body part, I'm with her until I'm dead. Or, at the very least, until she's been amputated. I like to remind her that's always a possibility. The sign of a truly healthy relationship.
YOU ARE READING
Very Short Stories & Drabbles
Short StoryA collection of very short stories, microfictions, and drabbles from all themes and genres. Posted weekly!
