Well On Second Thought. By John Patrick Robbins

           

Frank tossed and turned miserable as always.

He hated that Goddamned couch Susan had bought for the living room.

Sometimes he believed she bought the damn thing just thinking to the times he'd be shunned from the bedroom and have to try to sleep on this overpriced torture device.

And for the last few weeks his back had paid the price for his office fling.

Frank tossed and turned as outside a storm raged.

He always had a hard time sleeping in a storm, lightning just scared the shit out of him.

Susan on the other hand could sleep through a tornado, and he knew as the lightning crashed she lay there in the soft bed that was once theirs her mouth probably open snoring away.

Fuck why the hell did he not just go up there slip in bed.
He paid for everything in this house.

And he knew he could slide into bed, hell from the way Susan slept, even grab a piece of ass without her knowing it.

But like some well trained dog here he laid on this fucking floral print pain in the ass couch.

Lightning flashed as a huge noise rattled the damn windows it sounded like maybe a tree had come down.

He thought about getting up then told himself.
Fuck it!

What the hell was he going to do in a downpour? Besides get soaked or hit by lighnting.

Besides he was a banker not a motherfucking lumberjack.

This house drove him fucking nuts yet it was his or least he thought it was till earlier this evening.

When he had arrived home he knew something was different well besides Susan's normal ice queen demeanor.

 There was something far more distant than usual.

She was in the kitchen sitting at the table and for no reason Frank simply took a seat across from her.

“Look there's no easy way to do this okay.”

Frank said nothing like a man guilty of murder he simply sat there a waited to be dealt his hand.

“I want a divorce Frank.”

“Susan.”

Frank went to speak.

She held her hand up he knew it was pointless.

“Look Frank it's been over with us for years and your fucking that stupid whore at the office was just icing on the cake.”

“I want the house I don't want you or your bullshit anymore!”
“You did this not me I've stood by you and your antics for far too long.”

“I deserve something from all the hell you've put me through so I want it bottom line.”

She got up left the kitchen that was it.

And here he sat a world of shit on the inside a fucking storm from hell ragging on the outside.

Shit all this over a simple fuck.
The bitch at the office wasn't even anything more than that.
For months he had jacked off in the shower not cheated as Susan simply spent his money and sat on her ever expanding ass.

He paid for a fucking gym membership that she simply had to have for what?

Susan had more outfits to exercise in than she ever actually did exercise in.

And as far as their sex life went it was nonexistent.

“I just don't  have any drive anymore Frank.”

she said to him.

Which led Susan to her next kick seeing a fucking therapist if it involved money she was all over it.

Maybe I should have wrapped my dick in hundred dollar bills then maybe she would have actually got on it.

Frank thought to himself.

The rain poured the wind howled the goddamned lighting crashed.

Eventually Frank passed out only to be awoken by his alarm on his phone.

Fuck his back was killing him.
His dick was hard he looked at it and said.
“Yeah tough luck you bastard you're the whole reason I’m in this fix.”

He got up turned the coffee maker on and went to shower.
He kept thinking she wants the fucking house.

For years they talked about selling it moving somewhere better.
It wasn't a horrible place but what drove Frank nuts was the noise.

In his back yard a fucking overpass ran through as you sat on the back deck took a swim in their overpriced pool there was a steady stream of cars.

You could smell the exhaust fumes in the air people tossed beer cans and other assorted things out the window and into the trees and most the time directly into his backyard.

Fuck it drove him nuts.
But Susan had to have a house.
What if we have kids Frank?

We can't raise children in an apartment.

So Frank caved bought this place even though he hated it and after years of trying they found out Susan couldn't have kids.

And now after how he busted his ass she was going to take it from him.

Just over a one time fling!

Like fucking hell she was Frank thought to himself.
He poured his coffee looking at his back yard watching the early morning traffic pass by.

It was then he saw what had caused the noise last night.
A red cadalac sitting in his pool standing almost straight up like a fucking lawn ornament in his pool.

Someone had left the highway last night crashed through guard rail landing smack dab in his mother fucking pool!

Frank knew whoever the driver was had to be dead inside the car.

Frank thought of all the shit that would go along with getting the car out.

He thought of the news crews out in his front lawn.

Frank thought about how he had hated this place for so long.

He thought about how he said he wasn't going to just give in to Susan's demands and walk away.

Then on a second thought,

 Frank said.

“It's all yours bitch!”

And Frank simply decided to walk away.

               
                 Originally published  HST 

John Patrick Robbins

Is the editor in chief of the Rye Whiskey Review and Under The Bleachers.

His work has been published at The San Pedro River Review , As It Ought To Be Magazine, Punk Noir Magazine , The Dope Fiend Daily , Ariel Chart , Outlaw Poetry Network , Red Fez , The Mojave River Review.

He is also the author of Sex Drugs & Poetry from Whiskey Press and the soon to be released Once Upon A Nervous Breakdown from Soma Publishing .