(I love posting these up…..it’s the shortest novella post I’ve ever done due to being so busy and lacking time to type these in)
“Why are you doing this? Why would you invite me to a meal after last night?”
“And every other night too? I still have the scars,” she replied simply, “plus I think the nightmares still keep coming back. You”-she got up here-“beat our son almost every night, you’ve scolded him, hurt him so much. Is that how far you would go? You…you would draw the blood of your own wife and child…”
He kept his back turned towards her.
“But,” she continued, “are you willing to explain yourself? Your actions?”
“Actions…Actions are such strange things. The acts you wish to commit, the choices you make in life, sometimes you feel as if everything really matters. But what if it all didn’t in the end? I was told somewhere that we all take our deeds with us, trailing behind us, with a chain of actions peppered with a million desires. Some of us want to burn this chain, or else wish that our chains could just strangle us in our beds to put us to rest at last. Or to swamp our souls and bodies, to have our being disappear forever….actions,” he flirted with the word for a minute or two with a strange glance in his eyes and a smile that looked like he was still under the effects of drink, “actions are so, so strange.” Laughing drunkenly, he ran his hand through his hair and leered at her. “So what will my next action be? What will yours be? Or our son’s?”
He glanced at her once more quickly.