Reset

His hand hovered over the button. He didn't know what'd happen if he pressed it; only that he'd get the reset he wanted.

Would someone die? He thought about Evie, and the kids (all those fucking kids). He didn't hate them. He just wished he'd never... He didn't want to be a part of it any more.

Would they vanish? Die? Car crash, maybe.

She might be driving them somewhere in that hideous minivan right now. Seatbelt straining over that absurd belly. Bigger already than it had ever been with any of the others.

He loathed it. He slipped his arms round her non-existent waist, whispering he loved her more than ever, she'd never been more beautiful... Even as he felt sick inside. Repulsed by the stretchmarks. Ill with dread about what was to come. Childbirth. Saggy skin. The newborn stage again. With two.

He'd never fuck her again. Apart from how five pregnancies in seven years had ravaged her body, and newborns meaning no sleep or fucking, for years... He'd been so careful, and look: twins!

Last year, he'd tried to cheat. Then she'd leave, take the kids.

He was the wrong side of 45, though. With so many children draining his resources he wasn't wealthy. Women his own age weren't interested. That was mutual. Thirty-somethings reminded him of Evie. Younger women appealed, but didn't look twice.

He spritzed his sister's perfume on himself. Worked late too often. Signed up to dating websites, and created fake profiles to exchange intimate messages with. Then he left his phone lying around, unlocked. Spent money they didn't have on hotel rooms.

The stupid slut didn't once snoop, or question him. Didn't check the card statements.

His arm ached. Soon his hand would drop from sheer fatigue. Wouldn't be my fault then... He imagined them all, the car totalled, blood everywhere. Still, he didn't pull his hand away.

Click.

His arm really hurt. No sense of relief. If anything, increased pressure, squeezing, he could hardly breathe...

"Give him some air... I think he's having an heart attack... Call an ambulance..."

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Edited to add author's note:

Word count - 366

(NB. This excludes the title, subtitle, and authors note.)

Submitted on Sunday 8th September at 16:01

Author's Note

A Year of Stories: I'm writing (and submitting, here) a story every day this year. This continues my 252 daily microfiction story streak since 1st January.

Please consider lending your support to the other creators on this madcap "a story every day" adventure. They're putting out excellent content every day!

Rachel Deeming

Gerard DiLeo

Thank you

Especially if you are one of the wonderful people who has been staunchly reading these daily scribbles since the start of the year. I see you, and appreciate you very much indeed! Thank you to those who leave feedback/comments. I will do my best to respond to each one and reciprocate the reads.

If you enjoyed this one, the very best compliment you can give me is to share it, or read another!

Here is a recent Top Story of mine:

My new Dollar Challenge! Please give it a look:

A recent Runner Up placement for one of my Wanky Poems:

And now for something completely different:

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Thank you again!