He's at that computer again, this time ensconced under the bed covers.
Away from me.
As per usual.
I've decided to give him his space. Perhaps I've been too clingy lately, unconsciously driving him away.
If he wishes to be preoccupied with his laptop, so be it.
I spend my time slowly paging through my various novels, pages yellowing and wrinkled from countless years of bringing joy to people.
I'll pass these valued editions onto our children someday.
YOU ARE READING
When He Stopped Listening
Short StoryWinner of the 2016 Anti-Watty Awards. his eyes glazed his tea grew cold his calloused hands trembled he gradually stopped listening to me he never came back
