By John Leonard
*This is a piece of short fiction that has nothing to do with the actual theme of the blog.
Though the thought made me sick, I managed to muster up enough confidence to leave work early, buy flowers and make reservations at my wife’s favourite restaurant. I even got her purple carnations. She loved those, but I never understood what was so great about them. Dandelions and sow thistles look pretty nice, if you arrange them properly.
Our relationship was souring. It needed rejuvenation. I intended on surprising her, if it was even possible at that point. The last time I surprised her was when I maxed out the credit cards. We couldn’t afford to pay the workers stuccoing the house. The scaffolding was still there.
I arrived home and parked the car in our driveway. My walk up the front steps felt long. I opened the front door to the house and called to my wife, letting her know I was home. Then I heard a noise that sounded like a blissful groan. I heard another one. And another. My heart sank into my stomach.
I walked outside, carnations in hand, and climbed the scaffolding at the front of the house. I got up high enough to see into our bedroom and saw what I figured I’d see. My neighbour, Jim, was in my bed ploughing cheeks with my wife. In a fit of rage, I pierced the screen, burst through the window frame and landed right on top of the two adulterers. My hands fell perfectly around Jim’s neck, and my wife screamed as I punched him repeatedly. She’d picked up the carnations and started hitting me with them. Purple petals filled the air. I thought about how nice carnations are. Jim grabbed his clothes and ran.
Exhaustedly, I glanced up at my wife. She looked nothing short of surprised.