I'd love feed back on this short story

The Man

The old man sat in his chair alone and ate his breakfast as he soaked in the view of the faithful dirt road, the heat and the flies. He thought, without bitterness that he was better off by himself in his own world of solitude. Before, when she had first left him, he had sat in a state of after-shock, too dumb founded to even imagine life without her. It had taken him quite some time to 'deal' with it all. Sometimes, he sat staring at their wedding photo, sometimes at it, sometimes straight through it. He'd look at the wedding photo's trying to re-kindle memories that were too distant to remember. He remembered back to the day she had casually walked in with the shopping bags saying "I don't love you anymore I'm leaving" Before the plastic bags had slip from her hands onto the floor in a heap where she left them as she walked out of the room like so many other times. But this time he knew she was really gone, not just from the room but from his life. He could still see her there, with the shopping bags, as though it were only yesterday.
The old man drank the remainder of his coffee and slowly rose from his chair. He made his way over to the window and stood with silence looking at the sky. There were many things he regretted but no matter how much he tried he could never regret marrying her. Things were different then. When they had first married, she hadn't been so outspoken, so opinionated. She had been a graceful country girl who liked to dance and laugh all night long. He began to think of all the crazy times they had had when they were younger. She had seemed so care-free back then. He too had changed. His face, wrinkled and aged with hatred, no longer found reason to smile. The day she had gone had changed his whole out look on life. He no longer trusted people the way he had before and although once known for his cheerful hospitality he found more comfort now in a bottle of whiskey. He sighed as he envisioned the way she had looked in her wedding dress
Her hair had shone like little ringlets of gold and he could still remember how proud he'd felt knowing she was his girl. They had taken their vows in front of family and friends and even though the words seemed so true and real now the words were just words to be laughed at. He'd meant them she hadn't. She had been the only lady he had ever cared about but now she was just a deserter, a betrayer. Before, when he was still trying to come to terms with her leaving, he'd sit in his cold empty bed at night planning revenge. Murder had entered his mind one few many times but when the time came for action he couldn't decide which way would inflict more pain or leave him with more satisfaction. He looked out the window and tried to turn his thoughts to something apart from her. She was no longer apart of his life but in many ways she still was. She lingered in his mind daily, even if only for a moment. He closed his eyes. He thought about her more now that she was gone, Much more than he had when she'd been around. Maybe he hadn't been the perfect husband but she sure as hell hadn't been the perfect wife. He opened his eyes again. He let out a small
pathetic laugh. Maybe they could have saved the marriage. But she wouldn't even talk to him let alone try and reconcile. He found it hurtful that she hadn't even tried. He would have preferred to be the one to end it. Least then he coulda joked with his mates "Saved myself from nights of endless nagging". If he'd been the one to end it things would have been more acceptable then.
The night that she had packed her things and left he had gone down to the local pub to wash away and flood his sorrow but he'd over heard a few locals having a whisper and laugh at his expense. He had always been a man who never cared much about what others though but that night in the pub had been unbearable. He felt like his man hood was in question. He no longer went down to the pub, instead he got take a ways and sat in his chair with his dog by his feet. He got drunk alone. He took one last look down the dirt road 'Come one Leanne' he yelled whistling for his dog. Leanne pricked her ears up and sprung to her feet. The old man laughed as he opened the front door. Leanne bolted straight out and made her way half way down the dirt road. He shook his head and closed the door behind him and with sly satisfaction muttered, 'What would she think knowing that I named this stupid mutt after her?'

Short story by gills
Read 543 times
Written on 2006-12-18 at 12:06

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Kathy Lockhart The PoetBay support member heart!
fantastic story that caught me and held me captive until the end and then gave me a chuckle. I loved it.

Dear Gills,
This story really hurted me in a way, that's why I love it so. You see, everything you described so perfectly is my story - I'm the betrayer, the woman (not a perfect wife) who left her husband, without much explaining. Guilt is a horrible feeling, but the way you've written about the sufferings of the man, made me really think about what I've done. You've done a great job on this one, so touchy, please keep writing..
x, Francesca