The Centifictionist

I’m slow to come on as my husband tells me he’s met someone.
“Whaaat?”
“A man.”
I’m dizzy. Might blackout.
“Kevin.”
The kitchen’s cold white fluorescent lights flicker off and on. So he wants a man. Off. Not a woman. On. Not me. Off.
I stagger away. He finds me staring into the bathroom mirror. Says, “But I love you.”
The ceiling fixture throws a warmer white. Sobbing, he grabs my hand. “I don’t know what to do.”
We sit on the bed. In dim yellow lamplight, I search for shadows in his story, foreshadows in ours.

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Karen Walker’s words are in Janus Literary, Reflex Fiction, FlashBack Fiction, Ellipsis Zine, JAKE, Brink, Funny Pearls, Flash Boulevard, Bloom, and elsewhere. Twitter: @MeKawalker883.