Re: Vacation

by Ami Heller

operating-tricycle

Audioslave – I Am The Highway


Dearest Clara,

It’s over.
I’m not going to be trampled on anymore.
It’s 8:49PM. I’m slightly intoxicated. The kind soul that you are would probably choose the word inebriated. I take this opportunity to thank you for years of sensitivity.
You’re vacationing on some island in Greece. It’s been a month now. Most probably with a different man. But I guess it was inevitable.
Not that you care, but let me update you on how I’m doing these days.
Lucy’s arthritis is getting worse by the day. I take her out for walks that last no more than 5 minutes. Then she collapses.
Thomas and Shelly are brats. As I predicted, all those gadgets you pampered them with were a mistake. How about a good book next time?
Work is work. Mundane, boring but pays the bills. And allows you to go on extravagant trips with your girlfriends on the Mediterranean, right?
I was sitting at work today in front of my computer. I was staring at the screen. I saw a reflection of my face on it. And decided to write you that it’s over.
I’m not going to be trampled on anymore.

Sincerely,
Oscar

p.s. When you arrive tomorrow I’ll be gone on my own vacation. Don’t know when I’ll be back.

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