October 1, 2010

One Foot

I'm shivering. The wife won't let me smoke in the house. Fall is here. There are a few leaves sprinkled throughout the lawn. Plants are dying out. I haven't even mowed the grass in a few weeks. I've gotta deal with all this bullshit yard work. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Eight missed calls. I can't take the fucking nagging. I wouldn't be out all night if she would just treat me like a fucking man. What the hell even happened? I exhale a puff of smoke up into the heavens. It's a clear night and I can only see half of the big dipper. I hate this fucking city. Now I have to somehow sneak into bed reeking of beer and whiskey without getting bitched at. I need to leave.

Image taken from: http://www.abc.net.au/news/stories/2007/06/03/1940880.htm


  1. This does not bode well, does it?


  2. ah yes, being married to a drunk was da bomb. always something to bitch about, always someone to blame, never (ever) accountable. so so so so SO happy i woke the hell up.

  3. if i close my eyes, i can almost feel this.
    it's amazing.

  4. Oh! This is so freakin' sad. Reeks of turmoil and the hell that comes at the end of a relationship.

    I'm hoping this is fiction...

  5. Oh Christopher Robin: I so relate to this; except I'm the one outside smoking.....and sneaking into bed. Ha ha ha you are such a talented writer; I'm sorry I've not been here, to say so! I've trained myself, to write at least 1000 words a day. I think I will change how I measure the writing though. I've gotten to be quick, and can spit out 1000 words in about an hour....Just shooting from the hip, making up crap, I LOVE it!

  6. I know I'm a girl and this is the guy's point of view, but this reminds me of how I felt at the end of my marriage.


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