"Hey you want to hear something ironically funny and tragic?"
"Yes", she said with a smile.
"I feel like I know more today than I did this day last year, but I don't think most of what I learned is any use. Mostly, I feel like anything useful that I've learned falls under the category of 'what isn't right', or 'I definitely had this wrong', or 'nope that wan't the voice of the Lord'.'
She softly smiles and looked up from her book, saying with her look "don't worry my dear one", and with her voice "Awwww, broken heart and spiritually confused, the Lord loves that doesn't He".
Ignoring the voice I say, "It seems that nothing I've learned is useful for doing, only not doing. Am I just supposed to sit and not do?"
"I don't know maybe you could read a book", insinuating she's heard this before but is willing to work through it again if my heart desired.
"Maybe I could just take your book and pin you to the floor again, you know work of some of my angst."
She unsuccessfully fights her smile. Recognizing my challenge as something that I know she loves to lose to me in, she's always chaffed by my bringing up something that is just as confusing to her as my purpose in life is to me. She hates losing at anything, and is shocked that she loves to lose to me in something so base and silly as wrestling, something I obviously have the upper hand in anyway.
Loosing a devious smile over her book she impersonates Val Kilmer's Doc Holliday, knowing I love the movie and always laugh at her awful impressions, "I know husband, let's have a spelling contest".
Catching the insult I chuckle and pounce across the living room floor at her. Screaming she tries to get away, but was far too slow and really didn't want to escape anyway.
Grabbing both of her wrists and pinning them to the floor with one of my hands in front of her face, I stifle the rest of her struggles by stradling her left hip and holding her legs with my feet. I faciously asks "How do you spell dominated?"
Our night will end with no great insights into my divine purpose and she won't finish her book. It will end sweetly and tenderly, comfortably together. The morning will come as it had the day before. All the while I feel the Lord just smiles. Somehow I know that it is good. Can I take comfort in a good that I don't understand and has nothing to do with my problems? Sure, why not, I can at least for the next few hours; until sleep.
2 comments:
I like this story. I posted to this after to the one above. This one I felt was written with more deft and clarity and more precision. You spent less time of flowery language, and at the same time were poignant when needed to be, all the time being efficient. The only time I found a sentance to be awkward was when she called the narrator "husband." Do people really do that?
I loved the way you kept everything without names, in first person and in pronoun form. It takes away the focus from the character and more to the message. The wrestling match in the reality draws comparisons to the match going on his head, which was well done in my mind. The use of dialogue to introduce the story was well done, because not only did it capture me and draw me in, it put me into a frame of reference as to how the story is going to flow.
Hey bud, I really appreciate your comments. I love your insight and technical critiques. Love you booby.
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