Little Hell

Little snow flurries fell down from the clouds leaving everything covered in a thin white blanket. Blaire watched out the window of the gallery and began to paint the picture in her mind so she could copy it onto a canvas when she got home. The hand on the clock above the door was almost at 7:00 so she blew a kiss to her sanctuary and quickly called for a cab to take her home.

Kale had just pulled up to the curb in his cab and reached into his wallet to pay the driver and realized he only had a twenty dollar bill left.

“Nineteen bucks,” the man said, looking at Kale through the rearview mirror.

Kale had about ten seconds to either jump out of the car and run like hell, or pay up and be left with nothing. Needless to say he ran like hell.

“Hey!” the man called out the window, “God sees everything young man! God sees everything!”

He didn’t stop running until he was certain that the cab driver was nowhere to be seen. It was embarrassing to be too poor to afford to pay for your ride; especially when you lived in a city where it was near essential to have a ride.


Blaire’s heart was beating rapidly from running out of the weather and into the warm apartment building. Glen was sitting inside watching TV with a beer in his hand when she came in.

“Hey baby, I’m sorry about last night,” he mumbled, while his eyes traced the hockey puck that was bouncing back and forth on the screen.

“Do you want me to cook you dinner or did you already eat?” she asked, not bothering to acknowledge his pathetic apology.

“I already ate.”

Of course you did, she thought to herself in an irritated tone.

“Can you call my ma and tell her that I’m too sick to come and visit?”

“Your mom is in the hospital Glen.”

“I’m watching the game.”

“She’s practically on her death bed!”

“She’s fuckin’ fine Blaire, tell her that I can’t make it!” he yelled as he rose to his feet.

“I’m going to visit her. Are you coming or are you staying?”

He looked at her through slit eyes and angrily pressed the off button on the remote then followed after Blaire, putting on his leather coat and sneakers.

When they walked into the hospital room Glen’s mother, Angus, was awake watching an episode of Maury on a slide out TV. She smiled at the sight of her son and Blaire. Blaire always held a special place in her heart and she loved her like she loved her only son.

“Come here my baby!” she said to Glen who found it hard to smile at such a sad sight. “And you,” she cooed, “I’m so glad you came Blaire; my beautiful Blaire!”

Blaire kissed the top of Angus’s head and admired how neat she kept her beautiful white hair when she was practically dying in front of them. Angus had been diagnosed with lung cancer about a year ago and has been fighting for her life ever since. She was supposed to have passed away half a year ago already but something in her wasn’t ready to go yet.

“How are you ma?” Glen asked.

“I’m as good as new,” the old woman said and winked like she always did.

“You look good,” Blaire added.

“Oh you’re sweet.”

A nurse came in with a few pills that would ultimately make Angus sleep and not do much else. She set them on the stand beside and told her to take them when her company left.

“I’m going to go get some coffee,” Glen muttered, “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Blaire sat at Angus’s bedside and took her cold hand in hers.

“I have a feeling he’s going to ask you soon Blaire!”

“I don’t think he could ever ask me to marry him,” Blaire replied quietly, “he could never replace a wonderful woman like you.”

“I remember when you two were in kindergarten and even back then he had a twinkle in his eyes when he saw you.”

Blaire tried hard to not think about how she really felt for the old woman’s son; hatred and regret, mostly. The bruises that lined her body were bruises that she endured for the pure sake of keeping Angus happy and not adding to the pain that already passed through her bones every waking day.

“I may not be able to see you in your wedding dress Blaire, but I sure as heck know that you’ll make a beautiful bride.”

Glen walked in, trying to hide his distaste. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah.”

Angus squeezed Blaire’s hand lightly before letting her go and saying goodbye to her son. The car ride home was quiet like it always was; neither partner enjoying an ounce of each other’s existence.

“What are we doing?” Blaire asked with glossy eyes.

“Going home? Do you have Alzheimer’s or something?”

“I mean why are we staying together? If your mother knew we were this unhappy-“

“She’d tell us to work it out because she loves us together.”

“You’re probably right.”

Glen swerved and pulled over to the side of the road then turned to Blaire. She was nervous that he was going to pull something; it was hard to not expect something when he’s hurt her so many times before. He leaned over and did the unexpected. He looked into her eyes and gave her the lightest kiss. Blaire looked at him oddly before leaning over and pressing her lips against his again, entwining her fingers in his hair and hopping over so she was sitting in his lap.


Kale sat at his desk picturing none other than Blaire. He imagined her perched in a window with a canvas in her arms as she painted a lovely portrait. His story was coming along up until had to write about what she did next. He couldn’t make this story up; the real version was too spectacular for him to fake.