They fitted together like the dovetail joints in the drawer that he repaired and slid smoothly back into her nightstand. She kept a mental list of their complementary features – a source of pleasure during the lonely nights of his long business trips. He was a chef, her forte was housework. He was a coffee addict, she was fond of tea. Cats/dogs; showers/baths; country/western – stuff like that. In previous lives he was always the jilter, she the jiltee. So when he texted her their breakup from the driveway, she sighed. Knowing the perfect circle of their love was complete.



One thought on “Consummation

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