For audio click here
Being a Nobel prize winner isn’t all it’s cracked up to be you know? I mean, yeah it’s great to have the recognition for your life’s work. Yes, it’s nice to be invited to different conferences around the world and be introduced as Nobel laureate. Yes, it’s nice to have something in common with Bob Dylan, but it doesn’t make you any more money, you don’t get recognised in the street and it doesn’t stop you from coming home one day to find your wife in bed with her gym instructor, and his friend.
I suppose it had been coming, I should have read the signs. Looking back there were plenty. Furtive phone calls, late night dog walks, those exercise retreats she used to go on. But I was too busy with my work, and was happy that she was enjoying life.
Anyway, this story is not really about the reasons my marriage failed. It’s about what I’ve just done.
For one reason or another, we never had kids that I’d prefer not to go into now if you don’t mind. But we did have a beautiful Golden Labrador called Einstein. Einstein was the love of our lives. We both doted on him, and so it was no surprise that he became the very epicentre of our increasingly bitter divorce.
She argued I was away too much to look after the hound and that she would give him a happy home. I argued that as it was her sexual gymnastic that broke up the domestic paradise in the first place, she couldn’t be trusted to provide a happy home so I should get custody of the dog. I thought I was bound to lose when I saw it was a female judge, but she decided in my favour with Jane having visiting rights. In other words, Jane had to look after the hound when I was away. I could have kissed her wig when she read out her findings.
The look on Jane’s face when she handed over the leash was priceless. How I stopped myself from putting my thumb on my nose and going ner ner ner ner ner I shall never know. Childish I know, but hey I think I deserved a little victory dance. Jane was spitting feathers; she’d never considered she would lose.
Now though, well, I kind of wish she had won. Because if she had, Einstein might still be alive to tell the tale, or at least wag his tail and I might not have killed him.
Normally, I don’t let the dog out until I’ve backed the car out of my garage, but this time I can’t have closed the front door properly. Usually, I’m extra careful when reversing, but I was talking on the phone to Lisa, a woman who is becoming more than just friends. So anyway, one thing and another and suddenly there was this yelp; like a screeching train door. I knew immediately what I’d done. I jumped out of the car, ran around to the back, but there was nothing I could do. Einstein was already dead.
Distraught, inconsolable, grief-stricken. When I’d seen that man with his paws all over Jane in our marital bed I felt bad but nothing to how I feel now. When Jane left I felt loss, but now I’m heartbroken. I’ve lost my best friend. And what’s more, someone has to tell Jane, and that someone, is me.
Please if you enjoy these stories share them with friends, family, book agents, etc.. Facebook, Twitter, Instagram :-) Thank you.
No comments:
Post a Comment