They’re still married and still live in the same house, though they sleep in separate bedrooms and have no use for each other these days.
The children have their own lives and hardly come around. Their parents’ lives amuse them if they think of them at all.
In this game, so far, she’s been the winner. She’s beautiful and lively at 48, while he’s a sad, bitter loser at 51.
She has lovers. He has bottles.
The only thing that keeps him from putting a bullet in his head is his dream of bashing hers in with a hammer first.
by Brian Taylor
From: Friday Flash Fiction