Spilled Ink (Currently undergoing updates.)

21stcenturybogart:

3^rd Draft (Updated 4/9/11)

The sound of the ringing phone slices through the stillness of the early morning. She rolls over with a grunt and opens her eyes to the orange light slanting through the gap in the curtains.  She coughs and reaches over to the nightstand for a tissue, knocking over empty beer cans to get at the box. The phone continues to ring and she snatches up the receiver.

“Hullo.” She clears her throat.

“Jane? Is that you?” A voice, tinny and distant.

“Last time I checked.”

The voice laughs. “It’s Donnie, darling. How are you, you ok?”

“Oh I’m just wonderful Donnie, what do you want?” As she talks she opens the nightstand drawer and roots through it. She finds a box of asprin and swallows two capsules dry.

The voice is defensive. “Nothing. Can’t a husband just call to check in on his wife?”

She barks a laugh. “No, at least not you. Where are you anyway? You haven’t been home in a while.”

“Well that’s the thing darling. We need to talk.” The voice pauses and silence stretches. “Jane, honey you there?”

“I’m here Donnie.” She sighs.

“Well why didn’t you say anything?”

“What is there to say? I know what’s coming.” She sounds weary.

“Yeah,” The voice pauses. “Well I’ll say it again anyway. I’m not coming back. I’m leaving you.”

A throaty snigger, “What dumb little slut have you sleazed your way into this time?”

“Now listen, honey. That’s not how it is. I just think it’s not working between us. It hasn’t for a long time and I think it’s best for everyone if I move out.”

Her laugh is a low rumbling growl. “That sure sounds like a lot of shit. Whoever you’re with this time make sure she keeps you. I’m changing the locks; you’re not coming back here.”

The voice grows louder and indignant. “Hey, I’m trying to do this all cordial and polite, I ring you up to let you know what’s going on and you treat me like I’m the bad guy. I don’t need this shit.” The voice flees from the dial tone.

She chuckles as she places the receiver on the hook and then rolls over in bed. She nestles her head in the crook of the arm of the man beside her and places her hand on his chest.

“He’s left me.” She says.

He makes an agreeable murmur in reply.

“You want to move in?” She asks.

“Nope.” He replies moving his arm around her.

“Good.” She moves further into him.

They drift off back into sleep as the orange light moves across the room and fades to a steel blue.