Heavy Rain

By the time he awoke it was 11:30am and the space beside him was empty and cold. Not that he minded. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he ran his fingers through what little hair he had left and stood up. A swift change into tracksuit bottoms and an old t shirt meant he was ready for another day. The first day of his new life (not that it had been much different so far).

As soon as he reached the lounge Victoria's little pink mouth began to open and close as she spewed complaints at him. Phrases such as "...far too late.." and "..didn't even do the dishes!" reached his ears and as he looked at her, her tightly powdered face strained and shouting, she could have been the picture of a woman in great pain. Her grey-brown hair was scraped back into a bun, her eyebrows were knotted together in anger, the veins in her neck were standing out, and she brought her hand crashing down onto the table.

"Jack! Are you even listening to me?"

It was that moment he realised. Not only had he fallen out of love with her, he absolutely despised her. He despised everything about her, from her petty and childish jabs at him to the way she spoke in a higher pitch on the phone. He hated how she insisted on holding her pen, the "correct" way as she repeatedly told him, the way she hunched over in her chair, the way she would pick with her pointy fingernails the bits she didn't like out of pasta, the way her beady little eyes were always watching him. He couldn't wait to see them cold, lifeless, and being rapidly covered by dirt.