Short Short Story

         The stereo’s gentle pulsing breached the hallway and seized Kate, overriding her ordinary instinct to avoid the kind of slumbering conflict which could ground itself on the creaky hinges of a door. By the power of that mysterious interference, she crept automatically towards the threshold and quietly opened the door so she could see that thing she had to see.
         Her attention sprang upon the miniature crash of softened bergs slowly shrinking in a rising flood of faded amber liquor, sprang from her snoozing husband to the couple of short glasses which sat sweating on the placid glass table in front of her tousled sofa. Suddenly she remembered herself and quietly closed the door before retreating back to the cool dark of the city streets to make a call.
         “Hello?”
         “Mark, I got off early so I’ll be home soon.”
         “OOOOkay. Is everything alright?”
         “Yeah, I just wanted to let you know I’ll be home in a few minutes.”
“Um, ok sweetie, see you soon.”
         Kate smoked half a cigarette on her windswept stoop before revisiting the scene. Mark sat up on Kate’s couch, leaning over a single glass of diluted whiskey with the posture of a man intent upon a game, but the stereo rested in silence while the color commentator pronounced the surrender of a dejected home team. Kate did not pause to admire the artistry of his empty gaze as she trudged around and past a man transformed, a man now poised on the edge of her couch with the glacial features of an awful gothic statue. Mark’s position quickly collapsed upon the stunning tremors which sprang from the guestroom door, but his wife fell into bed before he could even begin to wonder why she had nothing at all to say.