Thursday, August 15, 2013
New Beginning 1011
The concrete octopus of Chicago’s interstate system is a gloriously proud homicidal maniac. Every five miles of tentacle bears a brilliant scoreboard advertizing the mounting tally. Despite the “Don’t Text and Drive” PSA campaign, regular commuters grind the Kennedy Expressway’s lethal curves with digital distraction; its outbound Montrose Avenue split is a frequent kill zone. As my mobile coffin cruises into the heart of downtown, the marquee lights flash “739 Traffic Deaths This Year.” Nine more lives devoured over the Labor Day weekend.
I park in Northwestern’s high-rise garage, blot my cheeks with a wadded napkin and drop my sunglasses in my cup holder. My reflection, a bloodshot corpse I hardly recognize, makes me snatch them up again.
My cell phone flares to life on the six-block walk to the office. “What?”
“You left early,” Sean says.
I continue walking. He continues breathing. We burn time saying nothing. Finally, he says, “I think, maybe, we should try counseling.”
Is that cheaper than divorce? I wonder. “We’ll talk about this later.”
Never. “When I come home.”
“What about the kids?”
Oh, are you considering our family now? “After they go to bed.”
“You’ll still be conscious?”
I sincerely hope not. “I’ll do my best.”
“You always do.”
Shove it with the sarcasm, asshole. "See you tonight."
"Oh, could you pick up a couple six-packs and some smokes on your way home?" he says.
Fuck you, you lazy, cheating shit-drinking bastard. "I'll try to remember."
"Thanks. Love ya babe."
Yeah, right, we'll see how much you love me when I poison your beer and ram an ice pick up your left nostril tonight, mothercockeatingwankcheesesuckwad. "Love you too."
Opening: Veronica Rundell.....Continuation: EE