JUST PUTTERING IN THE YARD

 

His anger boiled up from within, but in order to get a-word-in-edge-wise, he had to leave the room, walk out his back door, out past the garage, the tired swing-set, and the elm, to the very back of the yard, and there, he had his say. He yelled and screamed to his hearts delight. A full blown rant…standing in the night.

He was mad, angry, pissed and, more to the point, pontificating, alone in the dark, as far away as he could go, about what annoyed Him about Her. Where else can you go without being either arrested or assaulted? You get no sympathy from strangers. Strangers think you’re mad. Friends…Family…they don’t need to know this. They think you’re per- …well, if not perfect…then a good couple, a solid couple, when actually you’re both mad as hatters, gone way around the bend. What can you say to explain this away? You can’t. So, no, no family, no friends.

Options are up…

Counseling was decades ago, and did no good. Divorce, ahhhh, divorce…if only they could afford it.

So they suffered through the stew the world threw at them. It wasn’t pretty. It got ugly. She deserved to rant and rave. So did he.

When he was done, he watered the begonias, shut the garage, and locked the backdoor.

It wouldn’t get any better, and it could be a lot worse.

“What have you been up to?”

“Just puttering in the yard.”

V