Love Is Just a Hoax
How everyone goes on breathing
A woman, barely aged beyond girlhood, sits sprawled across a patchwork couch. Her hand rests delicately upon her swollen stomach, feeling each kick, twist, and turn. That stretched ivory skin and what it protected were the only physical reminders of him.
“I love you.” He whispered with a voice filled with all the tender notes of passion.
“Forever?” I asked. My voice shook slightly while he traced the curve of my face with his thumb.
“And always.” He promised, his answer barely a whisper as it rushed across my skin.
“I can’t promise you I’ll be the best mom,” she begins, voice thick and shaky, “in fact I won’t even try to tell that I will be because promises are made to be broken.” Her hand strokes the thinned out skin, her touch light and her motions absent-minded.
His hand grasped mine with strength and security, traits that resided in the sureness of his step and the set of his jaw. This boy was mine, forever and always like we kept saying. Like we kept promising and praying. I could barely hear his voice tickling the air around me, or feel the wet sand grinding between my toes. I was too wrapped up in that marvelous revelation.
The woman sighs, her face halfway between world-weary stress and absolute shock as a dampness spreads between her legs.
“Mom!” She screams, because that’s what hysterical women do. An older woman rushes in, her aged face displaying the same stress and shock.
“It’s happening.” The younger states in a strained whisper, teeth clenching and toes curling. It only seems like moments before she was being rushed through sterilized corridors with tears streaming down her face. Everything seemed to slow though, despite the speed of action, as her mind turned time backwards.
My hands shook, anxious at the importance of this announcement. Not, of course, at his reaction. He loved me, there was only way he would respond.
“I’m pregnant.” I finally blurted out. He looked up, deep set brown eyes wide in shock. I smiled weakly, remembering my reaction when I found out. My mouth started moving to reassure him, but he leapt up instead, saying he was going for a walk. Though, when one says that they often have the intention to return.
He didn’t.
His stuff was gone when I got back from work the next day.
Through tear blurred eyes, the woman spies a tenderly wrapped bundle of pink flesh. It, no he, cries and writhes in her arms. She lets out a nervous laugh.
“You and me buddy, that’s all we need. That’s all that matters.”
“I love you.” He whispered with a voice filled with all the tender notes of passion.
“Forever?” I asked. My voice shook slightly while he traced the curve of my face with his thumb.
“And always.” He promised, his answer barely a whisper as it rushed across my skin.
“I can’t promise you I’ll be the best mom,” she begins, voice thick and shaky, “in fact I won’t even try to tell that I will be because promises are made to be broken.” Her hand strokes the thinned out skin, her touch light and her motions absent-minded.
His hand grasped mine with strength and security, traits that resided in the sureness of his step and the set of his jaw. This boy was mine, forever and always like we kept saying. Like we kept promising and praying. I could barely hear his voice tickling the air around me, or feel the wet sand grinding between my toes. I was too wrapped up in that marvelous revelation.
The woman sighs, her face halfway between world-weary stress and absolute shock as a dampness spreads between her legs.
“Mom!” She screams, because that’s what hysterical women do. An older woman rushes in, her aged face displaying the same stress and shock.
“It’s happening.” The younger states in a strained whisper, teeth clenching and toes curling. It only seems like moments before she was being rushed through sterilized corridors with tears streaming down her face. Everything seemed to slow though, despite the speed of action, as her mind turned time backwards.
My hands shook, anxious at the importance of this announcement. Not, of course, at his reaction. He loved me, there was only way he would respond.
“I’m pregnant.” I finally blurted out. He looked up, deep set brown eyes wide in shock. I smiled weakly, remembering my reaction when I found out. My mouth started moving to reassure him, but he leapt up instead, saying he was going for a walk. Though, when one says that they often have the intention to return.
He didn’t.
His stuff was gone when I got back from work the next day.
Through tear blurred eyes, the woman spies a tenderly wrapped bundle of pink flesh. It, no he, cries and writhes in her arms. She lets out a nervous laugh.
“You and me buddy, that’s all we need. That’s all that matters.”
♠ ♠ ♠
Comments are always appreciated, especially since I don't know my way around short stories all that well.