|
A Somber Cold
by Michael Verderber Hands buried in pockets. Mouths stifled in scarves, the lemmings around Mark marched their pallid walk. A sense of dread, inevitable. The silence lingered like his doubt. Mark questioned his motivation. Was it now or never? Better now than forever? The envelope carried the weight of a thousand apologies, but this burden could not tip the scales in Ashley’s favor. The words wrapped in the off white envelope would tell of Mark’s cowardice. They say death is the coward’s way out. Mark’s letter embodied a far weaker coward. A car horn rocked his senses, reminding him of his awkward presence in the middle of the sidewalk. He squeezed the envelope again, feeling the folds and the creases of his fear. Of his impending absence. It had to be written because he could never say it. Ashley was six months along and Mark was six minutes away from leaving her. He took a step towards her mailbox. He had his plan, he had an apartment picked out. One bedroom, of course. A snowflake danced merrily down his forehead. It reminded him of last year and Ashley’s parents. He’d be running from them, too. “Why are you staring at the building?” Ashley’s voice bounced into his left ear. He stuttered incoherently.“What’s that?” she eyed the envelope.“Oh, uh, some bills,” the weight lifted his arm, catapulting the envelope into a nearby trashcan. “You ready to eat?” she pushed with charm. “C’mon, future daddy, I gotta feed this kid. She remained blissfully unaware as the door closed behind them, leaving his secret outside in the cold. |
|
