Archive for May, 2012

2012/05/10

The Ends Justify the Means

by mdjb

She had sat in the tub writing in a journal alternating with visits to the basin to cough up no more than a phlegmy sputum. She wondered how he could converse with a neighbor while she showed evidence of deteriorating health. Did she not rate as an entity? Was her till empty? Those rare times when he would shave lately, she would find hairs in the sink, and it was frustrating to think he had lost all interest in trying to work things out between them.
*          *          *
Their network was shattered and it was a shame. Though if you asked either to explain what shamed them the most they would be hard pressed to come up with an answer.They met for coffee and discussed how best to confine the bleeding. At that point it was still low, but it could not be stemmed. They had a draft ready to be executed. He might enjoy the promised calm quietude, and she would prefer to continue listening to the bird song mimicking contentment, but a correction was in order and they would have to agree on some points.
*          *          *
The length of his resistance would further enable his impatience. Like a disembodied claw or shed snakeskin his loyalty returned to the wild. There was one hour when they seemed copacetic, but as the music and mayhem of the rioting outside increased in volume, he knew he was a descendent of cavemen, and she? Was she any more civilized, with her talk of torts and measures and sixty-forty splits?
*          *          *
He felt her hesitation when they closed the cottage for the winter. He had always known her type, even in their dating days, all proper and accustomed to nesting behavior. Whence came this false energy, this need to be in motion? She had been no lover of controversy, and now she was ready to screw him into the ground. He could only imagine it came from the others, her so-called friends, those unhappy souls so willing to share their misery.
*          *          *
Andrea sat to one side, listening, like an iPod person self-possessed. Perhaps it was her pride, but she would attempt to carry the burden of their relationship while Ben tried to enforce his rights with Marian. She could only guess at how he might astonish both with the force in which he drove the spade into the ground of what had been lost. If he wanted to express his conviction, he could do no better than act as a one man burial squad, but as the minutes dragged on, and her third coffee grew cold, she wondered if he had asked her to accompany him to this, whatever this meeting was. For moral support or to hint to her that he would not be placed in this position again at some future time when they themselves might grow weary of each other? Whichever his purpose, she was impressed for the nonce, but maintained a non-interested expression, turned up her player drowning the noise outside and in.
*          *          *
Marian asked herself how Ben had had the temerity to bring this chicken along to their ostensibly private session, and had in the back of her mind that she must do some housecleaning when they had finished with the business at hand, for she would keep the house. That much she knew. The bimbo would have to work out a fresh agenda. She wondered why she couldn’t just let it go. All that hair in the sink, the stark reminder of his recently imperceptible presence. Every transgression and oversight noted in her journal should keep her from becoming trapped another time, but there again, she doubted she would foster a resolve. Everything that went into the beginning parts came back to bite one’s ass at the finale, but weren’t the bite marks an indication of strength earned? She noted the weakening of his stance as he blotted yet another minor point. No need for lawyers yet. Entropy was at work.

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