Marla was watching a movie.
There wasa scene, at the very end, which slapped her across the room. A scene in a movie which had her gasping for air as tears exploded from her eyes, and she ran into the bathroom, turned on the shower.
She turned on the shower so the sound of falling water would hide the sounds of those tears that rolled down her face.
She clamped her hand over her mouth to mask the sobs.
If her husband had come in, what would she say?
It took time for her to calm down enough to take off her outfit, go into the shower and push the centre of her soul out of her thoughts, and get herself under control.
She heard Len banging into the room, calling her name.
“I’m in here!” she flung with that twist to her voice.
“We’re going out for ice cream!” Len shouted as if he were their three year old son, Colin.
“Okay, give me ten minutes…” Marla called chirpily.
She looked in the mirror; “You can do this,” she told herself.