jaylar
Arthur was walking to the parking lot. It was already dark, as he had spent an extra long day at work.
His cell rang, he stopped, the call was from Donna.
He looked at her picture for a moment, as the phone rang again, and then again.
Taking a deep breath, Arthur ended the call, and blocked Donna.
He stood a time, just breathing, thinking nothing, and then, with a small, safe smile, put the phone back into his pocket, and went to his car.
As he drove he was bathed in a mixture of relief, success, strength, and an odd sense of freedom he had never known.
He thought of stopping on his way home for a drink or to have a meal, but recalled some left overs in his fridge, so kept driving.
Arthur reached home, parked, entered his house, locked the door behind him.
He took the left overs out of the fridge, put them on the counter, went upstairs for a shower, leaving his suit on the bed above his shoes. He washed the day’s sweat away, thenwearing an old pair of jeans and shirt, came down.
He popped the left overs into the micro, then served himself. After eating, he poured a glass of wine, and savoured it and the moment.
