Kuifje

By Kuifje

So Far

The sound of the door slamming behind her was dampened somewhat by her handbag and keys hitting the glass coffee table. She'd never liked that coffee table, it was the fact that it was glass that bothered her so much. Why had she not got rid of it?

As she threw her jacket onto the armchair, she flicked her shoes off and dropped herself into the corner of the sofa. As it enveloped her she let out a long, low sigh. What a hell of a day.

It was about forty five minutes later when she realised that her mobile had been ringing for quite some time. She didn't move towards it as it rang and vibrated in her handbag. The vibration was made worse due to the fact that it was resting on the hideous glass coffee table. As the phone stopped, she recalled a long forgotten discussion.

"I don't really like it", she said in the nicest way she could think of. "But mum has given it to us. It's a gift. She's trying to be nice and help us settle in our first place together." The sun shone on his blonde hair and she could see the freckles on his nose. "I understand that, but it's hideous"
"She'll be upset if we say we don't want it."
"But we don't!"
"Look, let's just hang onto it until we find something that suits us better. Mum'll see it a few times when she comes round and then she won't take offence when we get rid of it later." He was always trying to keep the peace, he should have been a diplomat. "Fine," she'd snapped, "but I'll start looking for a new one tomorrow!"

That was the last time the table had been mentioned. It had just sat there for years, never liked, yet never replaced. It felt wrong to replace it now, so soon after. She still hated it though. She hated him, loved him, missed him.

Another hour had passed. She'd not noticed. It was getting dark. This was his spot on the sofa, the corner. He used to stretch out after dinner and she used to snuggle up to him as they watched tv. Not now. Now it felt empty.

The feelings and emotions inside her were like the tide, rising and falling, often at regular intervals. This was a low point, Friday after work. It just wasn't the same anymore. Would anything be the same?

It all felt so far out of reach, so far to go, so far away. She sighed once more.

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