Too Late To Regret My Ex-Husband

ia. The neighborhood was quiet, a star

melled of floor wax, old mail, and someone c

ng the rusty silver key he hadn't u

talian suit felt ridiculous here, like a costume. The l

oor. It creaks op

all. Dusty. Cold. It

bulb flickered, buzzed, then st

ts of his bachelor life. Books, old c

n the futon. Dust mot

box labeled

at graduation. He smiled faintly. He forgo

ther box: "W

f paper. A draft of his

us. "I promise to be your anchor

nto a tight ball and th

and opened his laptop. He conne

senia had already sent the d

rms: Irreconcilable

" button. The recipient was

of a dream. A death of

w Hank's smirk. He felt t

s eyes. He c

ling deeply. The weight on

es groaned and shuddered as he turned the tap. The

y mug that said "Wor

s stomach growled. He had lef

othed. He stared at the cracked ceiling.

d me, buddy,

es and fell into