Member-only story
At the Table
(a fiction story based on the five-minute freewriting word prompt, table)
They sit, the dining table between them, covered with the remnants of dinner, hers mostly untouched. But he doesn’t notice. And for what is at least the 7th time since they sat down, she thinks how this once-intimate place, where they have shared countless meals and conversations now seems like an ocean that separates them. As if they are different countries separated by a sea whose tides carry away their dreams upon its waves.
She looks at him; as he studies something on his phone, she studies him, willing herself to see him as she used to. In her mind, the familiar phrase rolls in like the tide, it’s not you, it’s me. She has tested it on her tongue, to herself, in front of her bathroom mirror. But watching him now, the words ebb away. Without realizing it, she circles the mouth of her glass, drifting away on her thoughts, thoughts that no longer include him.
For a moment she feels guilty, but reminds herself, it’s not me, it’s you. These are the words she believes to be true, but they are not the ones she’s practiced for weeks now.
