The Night Before
The eve of change
She is sitting alone on the worn-out brown sofa, a silent presence in the large sitting-room’s dim yellowish light. Her house is now becoming quiet, visited by the long shadows of the evening. She is only hearing the regular snoring of her old dog, Luna.
Her own light snoring, on the other hand, always annoyed her husband. He deplored it so much that, one night, he made up a cot for her in the studio, in the midst of that mess. Peremptory, he stated, “When you’ve fixed this problem, you may come back and sleep in the bedroom again!”
He threw her, her mattress and pillow out of their master bedroom. She felt it unfair, especially because she always slept at home, not like him, who regularly stayed five days and went away for a week. She had chosen on purpose that room out of the others, right because it faced the paddock. And besides, he snored too!
She didn’t argue for long. But she did vividly imagine jumping at his throat and punching his face, wishing to see him KO to the ground. She wanted her revenge, but in the end, she just had to accept the situation because it was late at night. Her hope of winning the discussion with him was minimal anyway, and she didn’t want to wake up and upset the children.
What stung the most was her wounded pride and the fact of being alone to endure…
