Humanity's Peacekeepers

- 07 : 2129

I popped my antidepressants, as my psychiatrist told me to. My husband's never home, and I'm always just left alone. I always cleaned the house religiously every day, including the kids' rooms, yet I didn't feel like doing that today.

At the balcony of this massive house he bought, this home always felt very towering. He bought a plot fit for an apartment, but built this three-storied house for himself instead. This building always clashed with the taller red-bricked mini apartments, making us look like absolute snobs.

I tell him time and time again to move closer to Mt Sinai Hospital, somewhere in Astoria, maybe. Yet, he still refuses to listen, and would rather have me rot here while he's all the way in his stupid workers' hostel.

I lit a cigarette, looking down upon the streets at 2 in the afternoon, with my favorite podcast playing on the table. I've grown to like the loneliness, really I have. However, a bit of company from time to time would be more than welcomed.

Suddenly, the podcast paused; my husband was calling me. I put my phone on loudspeaker mode, and set it back on the table.

"Hello, dear," he said.

"Yes, what do you want?" I wasn't in the mood to talk to him. "Are you not coming home again?"

"..." There was a pause. "...Yes, dear."

"You might as well haven't called me, 'dear'." I was mad.

"I will make it up to you, though," he calmly said. "This Thursday, I'll take you out for a nice evening dinner, sweetheart."

"Hmph," I smiled a bit. "Let's hope you keep your promise this time."

"Oh, I will, honey. No appointments of the sort for that day, I'll have a coworker take my shift if anything happens."

"Okay then, what time?" I asked.

"I'll be home at about 5 to change."

"Then I'll be looking forward to it, Ron," I replied. "Goodbye, dear."

"Goodbye, I love you, hon."

"Love you too."