I’ve washed up again. The dishes have been piling up in the sink for three days now; there isnt even a clean mug left. I waited and waited… Whats the solution? I walk through the front door after a day at work, starving, frustrated, exhausted. And before I can have a bite, I need to tackle all the dishesotherwise, theres nothing to eat from.
Theres hardly any food either. I just flicked the kettle on and filled a saucepan with water. At least I can boil a few sausages, or just have them plain. Im ravenous. I never imagined Id be in this situation… Oh, how I wish I had Claires homemade stew right now…
Her pies were absolutely delightful. The flaky ones filled with all sorts of goodness. And her roast ribsthe best around. The house was always spick and span, every room gleaming. Walking through the door after work, you were met by a fresh, clean scent. Now…
Why didnt I appreciate it at the time? It seemed like my Claire devoted herself to nothing but laundry and cooking…
I spotted Emily one day. Stunning, in a short skirt and tall heels. She was just leaving a beauty salon, perfectly polished, really stood out. At the time, I thought…
I never bothered with salons myself, didnt splash out on fancy hairstyles, never cared for dyeing my hair. I didnt stroll through fashionable shops much either. Yet, Claire was just as slim and attractive. She simply didnt care for all the frills. Always in jeans and trainers, popping out for groceries or rushing around at home.
I love someone else! I said to Claire when I got home. And Im moving out! I dont want to lie to you.
Claire kept whisking cream for her cake. She didnt even look at me. I didnt notice her silent tears…
I suppose I was tired of always seeing a housekeeper beside me, rather than a partner. Maybe thats why I became so drawn to Emily. Now Im stuck doing the dishes, sweeping the floors, tidying up. I havent really learnt how to cook yet, and sometimes, late at night, I dream about Claires pies…
Emilys got a new manicure, so she cant wash up. Shes lounging on the sofa, flicking through magazines, planning her next trip to get her hair styled. There are a few dresses strewn across the floor, and I keep nearly stumbling over her heels. She hasnt decided what to wear to the salon. And yesterdays glass at the doorshe didnt bother bringing it back, so its still there.
Why did I leave my wife for such an idle lass? Its an endless struggle. Shall I make some pasta again? Im absolutely starving…
