Tag: domestic

Summer Loll

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Isaac leaned against the fence post that marked both the edge of the neighbors farm and informally the edge of town. He flipped the dagger in his hand, letting it rest on the back of his palm, before throwing it into the air. It spun a full rotation before landing blade first into the soft dirt. He bent down to pick up the dagger and do the same with his other hand. 

His father was more of a show off. When he taught Isaac how to play with blades, he would always do two, or even three rotations in the air before the dagger would bury itself into the ground. Isaac was much more utilitarian with his knife games. 

His father taught him several summers ago, back when Isaac was only maybe six or seven. Isaac wiped the summer sweat from his brow back then just as much as he did now. He hated the drills his father had him do; alternating stance and form at a moment’s notice. Forward grip extended his reach, his father would say, and back handed grip made boxing more lethal. A downward thrust had more force, good for armor or a thick shell, but it made him vulnerable to someone with longer reach. 

Isaac grabbed the dagger, flipped it underhanded, and stabbed it more than inch into the post behind him. 

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Duplicitous

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I think it’s important that you hear this from my perspective. It… it might not make sense and I don’t completely understand what happened either. I just don’t know what she would say about this, and that terrifies me.

Earlier today, I returned home from a business trip. There…there was a conference out in Chicago, and with the snow, I just couldn’t get out of the city. So I was a day late. She knew that could happen. She had to have seen the weather reports, right? She was always the kind of person to fret over these kinds of things so I can’t imagine she didn’t spend most of yesterday checking the weather every hour.

I tried to call. I really did. I called home and no one answered. It didn’t even ring. I thought I had the wrong number. So I called again. I think I called about 10 times, but nothing changed.

When I got back home, I was worried, really worried. So I ran inside. I banged the door into the wall, I think. There was a dent in the wall where the handle would have been. I didn’t think I opened it that hard, but there was the dent, like on the wall. This startled her, I thought at least. She turned around speechless and just stared at me. She was wearing a light blue dress that went down to her knees, and over that a white apron. 

I said, “Oh thank god! I tried to reach you!” 

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