She quietly smiles, politely nods her head.
She is versed in the art of Pretend Adoration for Husband Speak.
A course taught at Getaman University.
Her parents made her attend.
She graduated with honors; married well.
Still thinks about the mechanic’s son. Wonders What If?
Her doctor made her parents proud, top of his class.
However now looks like other old men.
Desperate to hang on to lost youth.
Desperate to fascinate women, even if only his wife.
The early bird dinner grinds on.
He gibbers about the importance of the nothingness that connected them.
Jabbers about the “this one and that one,” exhausts all their mutual ties.
Mercifully, the waitress asks, “Coffee?”
Welcomed salvation, sweet silence between them as the smell and steam and sound.
of the dark black brew fills her ceramic white cup.
©2021 P. C. Moraitis All rights reserved.
P. C. Moraitis is a columnist and poet born in Detroit, Michigan. She has written theater, operatic and symphonic reviews for The Troy-Summerset Gazette, The Monitor, The Northwest Detroiter and The Dearborn Times Herald. After all, life has its share of comedy and drama.
Long before Brad Pitt made it stylish, she has been eating peanut butter on a spoon.