Well the first story I posted went over so well I thought, what the hell why not post another one, and here it is.
After last night all Mark wanted to do was sleep and drink, but he could not afford to miss work, the rent was due this pay check, and he could barely afford food. After his shower, he got dressed and went toward the stairs; a yummy smell hit him like a wall as he walked down. He walked into the kitchen eggs, bacon, and sausage, popped and sizzled on the various skillets, bread toasting in the toaster oven. His wife was calm and collected running around the kitchen, where he would have been frantic and scattered. When he saw all the food, he thought to himself: we can’t afford all this cooking.
“Good morning honey,” said Mary, his wife.
“What are you doing?”
“Well last night you were complaining so much about what happened,” she began, “so I thought a nice big breakfast would make you feel better.”
“Honey, we lost all that money because of me,” he said with shame, “if I had--”
“What happened doesn’t matter,” she interrupted.
He looked at her. He couldn’t believe his ears. Was she serious? All the money he lost, and it doesn’t matter?
“I lost one hundred thousand dollars,” he yelled then picked up a plate and tossed it at the wall, “what the f*ck do you mean it doesn’t matter?”
“Listen,” she said calmly, “we can make the money back, now please calm down.”
“No, it’s not alright,” he said with rage, “be mad at me, I pissed away our life savings,” he calmed for a second and cried, “please be mad at me.”
She stood over him, and looked down, her fists clinched and her face angry. She hit him, and hit him again.
“What is your problem,” she said angrily she hit him one more time, “I have been cleaning peoples disgusting houses, for fifteen years, while you go to your fancy desk in your fancy office, in that fancy building, and what do you do all day, look at pictures of girls and you judge them on their beauty and boobs, you make me sick.”
She slapped him, he cried, but she did not care, she turned around and grabbed a skillet. She dumped out the bacon, “you are a terrible person,” she said then readied to hit him with the skillet.
“I’m sorry,” he cried.
This infuriated her, she scowled and swung. The hot skillet contacted his face, he screamed. She looked at what she had wasted her life on; she dropped the skillet as he continued to cry on the ground. After a minute she left him, and walked up stairs.
post if you like it