A Night Out
A Story Every Day in 2024 July 26th 208/366
"I don't want you to go out tonight."
She had left it right to the last minute to launch her guilt attack. John had foolishly thought he was getting away with it. Why couldn't she just let him have a life of his own?
"But I really want to go," he said, pleadingly.
"But I really want to go," she said in the mocking singsong voice that she used to diminish him.
John could feel his gut sinking.
"You've always been a selfish little boy. I don't know how you can think it's alright to leave me." She was sat in her chair, like a fat old toad, grey, warty and squat.
"I'm not a boy any more. I'm a man," he protested. He was fifty in March. The sneer was on her face before he had finished the sentence.
"A man! A man? Don't make me laugh!" And she cackled uproariously, her carelessness of spirit invading the room with each expulsion of mirth. "You're not a man!" Her laughter receded and she looked at him with her beady black eyes, penetrating him like daggers. "Men are born of men and your father was a rat."
He shrank from her words. He'd loved his father and he had watched for years while she had metaphorically sliced pieces from him, her derision a carving knife that kept reducing him down until there was nothing left of his spirit at all.
"And you know what rats are? Vermin."
Trying to remain buoyant in the face of her spite was draining, like being pummelled repeatedly with negativity pellets.
When Daphne, a lady he'd met at the library asked "Would you like to meet me for a drink?", he was about to refuse when, in a moment of daring, he said, "Yes." His heart had been drumming but when he walked out, books in hand, he had been euphoric.
He thought about that now, that feeling. And its brightness and its joy acted as a lifebelt, keeping his head above the despondency and tsunami of guilt.
"I'm going out," he said and she erupted.
"IF YOU LEAVE, YOU NEVER COME BACK, YOU HEAR?"
He did hear.
And he didn't care.
***
366 words
Good old John. I hope it's a successful date.
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There is a story that has been passed down from generation to generation amongst the zuxia. This story tells of a lord that was said to be the God of the lunar. This God, however, was not like the other Seven Gods. It was believed that he was the very same God that fell into the world and shattered it. This God is known to be the very father of corruption itself so the story is not often spoken about, however, whispers still get around that this Lord of the moon is still worshipped till this day.
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Comments (5)
What’s to come back to? Easiest decision in the world. Mother great tale, Rachel!
Gosh poor bloke. I hope John has an amazing night and never looks back. She’s so spiteful.
If I was him, I'd had kicked her out a long time ago hahahahahahaha
This is so deeply tragic- but hopeful in the end! I hope John can escape the bitter mockery...really well done!
Nice work thanks for sharing.