My sister Cassandra just started a blog http://cassandralynnmiller.blogspot.com/, and one of her posts is about an old story she wrote. So I thought I'd post a story I wrote a few years ago. I'm considering creating more posts about old stories and poetry that I've written, but only during times when I am busy or I can't think of what to write. I've been busy lately because my husband and I have been traveling and will be traveling again soon.
In 2006, for my English 212 class (we wrote a lot of short stories for the class), the teacher had us write a story that resembled Lydia Davis's style of writing. We had been reading a lot of her short stories at the time. Lydia Davis inspired me to write the following short story.
Coming Home from a Bad Day at School
A woman dressed in black slacks and a white blouse opens the front door and slams it behind her. Her husband swivels in his chair and looks at her over his glasses. He pushes his glasses up with the tip of his index finger and asks her if she’s had another bad day at school. She throws her brown briefcase on the coffee table and plops onto their black leather couch.
“Those brats just don’t listen,” the woman says between clasped teeth. Her husband stands and walks behind the couch to rub his wife’s tense shoulders. Five minutes later, he asks what she wants to make for dinner. They quarrel.
Later that night, the woman and her husband undress for bed. They slip under the red satin sheets and the husband reaches for his wife. “Not tonight,” the woman says, “I have a headache.” Both roll over, their backs to each other.
They fall asleep. He dreams he is making love to his wife. She dreams she is beating her students with an unabridged dictionary.
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