‘I’m so sorry honey, my sweet beloved angel, but you have to die.’ ‘What???’ Feldman shrieked as he struggled to restrain his surprisingly strong new bride. ‘I…’ Maribell bawled uncontrollably. ‘Oh god!!!’ she screamed. ‘I shit the bed!’ Her tears cascaded down her face, a waterfall of shame and humiliation mixed with repressed anger and murderous lust. Maribell thought about how she hated the way Feldman spent more time in the mirror than she did, and the disgusting way he slurped his soup, just like their flappy jowled bulldog, Walter, slurping at his water bowl. She bear down on him with all her body weight, her knees planted firmly on his chest, her freshly manicured toenails digging into his groin for leverage. Feldman thought back to his days on the wrestling team in high school and he could almost hear coach Brawley screaming encouragement, ‘Elbows in, Feldman! Elevate! Elevate!’ And with all the explosive force he could muster, Feldman propelled Maribell upward. She fell. One that I hadn't thought about since my divorce. "Continue with your evening ma'am." "Ugh, please don't call me ma'am!! It makes me feel old! Call me Shana". He blushed but didn't say anything else. He sat down on the couch and I started to make small talk with him. I learned that he was older than he looked and that he was studying to be a veterinarian. I soon realized that I had finished off the bottle of wine but there was no sign of my daughter. "I`m not sure where Jamie is. She's usually pretty good at keeping me updated of her whereabouts. Do you want to leave or would you like to continue to wait? I asked, hoping he'd choose the latter. I was starving for conversation with an intelligent man. "I would like to continue to wait, if that's okay with you, Shana. I got up from the couch and grabbed another bottle of wine from the fridge and a second glass. Well we both had a few more drinks, me more so than him. After I was good and liquored up, our conversation turned naughtier..
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