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Let’s Fly Away
The phone slipped from her numb fingers to the carpet where she stared at it as if it had become a scorpion. She considered stomping on it with the heel of her shoe.
All that she had intended to do was rid her ears of its incessant vibrating on the dresser. Reading the text was accidental.
She sat on the edge of the bed, listening to the shower running and his ridiculous rendition of “Come Fly with Me” like he was Frank Sinatra reincarnated.
She should be angry, but strangely wasn’t. Was it because the riddle had been solved? Now she knew why he never touched her anymore or wanted to dine out or go to the movies or cycle every weekend and lunch at the marina afterward.
Maybe somewhere in the past year they had already separated in all of the ways that were important.
She left the phone where it was, changed into biking gear, and went to the garage to pump the tires on her old bike.
Thirteen years ago they met by accident on the Mount Vernon trail. It seemed fitting she should leave him that way too.