As he stared across the table at Ruth, Jim realized she was no longer the woman he'd married. The youthful exuberance that he fell in love with had long since drained from her face, and was now a dull glow at best, as if the flames of their passion had reduced to an ember of late. Jim realized at that moment how beautiful Ruth's sister was by comparison. Though only five years Ruth's junior, Sally still radiated that indescribable quality that only the inexperienced possess and the elderly lament; that beauty from within like an unpicked flower. But Sally wasn't like him, she didn't have those thoughts, or at least she didn't show it. Whenever he thought of her, Jim was certain he must be turning red or otherwise showing his shame to the world. He was certainly no actor. But then, how could he eat Ruth's potato salad with a straight face? Surely he had some qualities borne only to a future husband which allowed him to lie convincingly when it would benefit his wife, yet feel crippling shame when he thought of his own desires. How could he remain here, in this house, with this woman he hardly knew anymore? Was there nothing out there for him? Would he ever know love again? At his age, the odds were slim to none that he would ever find real love again. Better to just shut up and eat the potato salad.
-A product of boredom at work, By John Carter
posted by 123454321 at 2:00 PM