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Showing posts from February, 2007

They Just Slip Away

She thought the baby would come, but it did not.

Matthew was in her car, parked behind the laundromat. He sat sideways, with his feet propped up on the dash. He smoked cigarette after cigarrette. Her 11-month old son was sleeping in the backseat. The front passenger side window was open, but just a crack. It was pissing down rain outside.
He had met her almost six months a go. She was almost five years older than him. And three months pregnant.
And he didn't care.
He worked the afternoon shift. Drove the forklift, for cans of soup. Brought home his pay check.
And he had cable TV and cigarettes. All the time.
She was easy to get along with.
He had decided love was only an action. And anyone could act.

She thought the baby would come, but it did not.

He drove them out to a country road. It was after two in the morning. It was no longer raining. And it felt so good, to be behind the wheel, driving too fast. He rolled down the windows. He felt the dampness of the June night right down t…