Gathering Stones (Real Life VII; Fiction)

 

 

 

He asked her to read "The Lottery" as she hugged him, as usual, when he left for work. Though she nodded yes, he knew she wouldn't read it, but it was the only way he could say what was on his mind without confrontation, which he desperately wanted to avoid. She had ceased to take any interest in him months ago. They were genial with one another, but they were husband and wife in name only. When they were first married she would have read Shirley Jackson's short story eagerly, and would have spent hours discussing it with him.  But not now, she was distant, off somewhere in her head. He didn't ask where, he was afraid to know and he didn't think she would tell him the truth anyway.

It was the hug, it bothered him. He still loved her, and yet he knew she did not return his affection. He knew why of course, he always knew why his relationships failed, he was, however, less sure about why he never corrected them. That was another thing he didn't want to think about. He didn't want to face his shortcomings...it was easier just to blame his wife.

Yes, it was the hug that bothered him. "It isn't fair, it isn't right," he muttered. He knew their hugs were meaningless, just perfunctory gestures, ones they felt obliged to maintain. He didn't like the dishonesty of it, the pointless continuation of something that had no point.

Their relationship was like a slow, senseless death, prolonged by purposeless convention. As he thought about the situation, he wished today was June 27th and that he was Tessie Hutchinson. He smirked at the notion. It was a rueful consolation, for he knew she never threw stones.