"Being a good writer is 3% talent, 97% not being distracted by the internet." Cyrus Farivar

Saturday, January 7, 2012

Never Ask

Whoa, first story update of 2012.

Never Ask

            It was quiet in the apartment; something that was unusual for a Saturday afternoon. Normally he’d hear music blaring through the speakers, and find his boyfriend vacuuming or working on some other chore that he’d saved for the weekend to do together. The chores weren’t going to be finished, and the music was going to remain off.
            Sitting heavily on the couch, he stared at the fireplace. In the back of his mind he knew he needed to change out of his suit so it wouldn’t wrinkle, but he couldn’t convince himself to do it. He tugged at the black tie, feeling it ease its hold on his neck. Striding to the kitchen, he noticed the plethora of casserole dishes and other items people left in condolence. Bypassing all the food, he snagged a bottle from the freezer and poured a shot. Downing it, he felt the burn in the back of his throat before he went for another.
            Things needed to be done; he couldn’t let life pass by. But something was stopping him as he thought of his partner and their chores. Wiping his damp eyes, he rubbed his face. They had never discussed the coupons. He had no idea where they were, and now he could never ask.

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