Comments and ratings are very appreciated ^^
Written for: Five Words, May 2007 round.
The 5 words needed to be used are in bold.
Handling It
I stand in the driveway, tears on my cheeks, gripping a coffee cup in my hand. At first, I thought you were just going for a drive, like you said - until I saw your suitcase. I ran out of the house with bare feet, through a
puddle, my
toes squishing in the mud, not even stopping to put down the cup of coffee I had been drinking. You told me you were sorry, but that you couldn’t handle it anymore; that you had to leave. And leave is exactly what you did. So now I stand, watching the dust trail your truck left behind on the road, feeling numb. Our son, sick with cancer, had been lying on the couch watching Inspector
Gadget, but now I hear him call for me. The question of how I’m going to tell him runs through my mind, and I continue to stand in the driveway, bringing the coffee cup to my lips. The coffee’s bitter, it needs
sugar. But over the last year I’ve gotten used to things being bitter. I feel light, wet drops start to hit my face; another rain cloud passing by. I look down and watch as the drops
dot the pale gravel in front of my muddy feet. Our son calls for me again, and this time for his Daddy as well. I take a deep breath, wipe the tears off of my cheeks. Walking back towards the house, I can’t understand why you think I can handle our son’s illness anymore than you can...
