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Monday 22 April 2013

Countdown Chronicles #1



Sometimes simple words hurt the most. When someone dances around the point you can tell that they’re worried about what they’re about to say. They actually still care a little bit about you. But when they come right out with it, like it’s the easiest thing in the world… I don’t know. When she said it, I didn’t really hear her. It was like she was asking me what I wanted for tea. She just plopped her keys down on the side and turned to me. Hands on hips.

And I’ve said it more times than I can count. On the sofa one night when she said that Nicolas Cage was her favourite actor and in the kitchen when she told me she didn’t really like drinking coffee that much. But it was a joke. Always a joke. And she’d always laugh.

I ask her to repeat it and she looks at me, with those grey eyes that used to be green, I’m sure of it. She sighs before leaving the room in a huff. I wait in the living room, staring at the door, my eyes slightly wandering back to the TV where Countdown is playing. Someone just got seven points. 

She’s back. She’s got her suitcase in her hand.

“I don’t love you anymore.”

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