Every Night At Five Till Midnight Pt 1

   

   

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 Every Night At Five Till Midnight

Pt. 1

Every night 
At precisely seven until midnight,
He stands in the garden room
Surrounded by green living things
And beautiful flowers tended with love
Orchids, roses, peonies, tiger lillies
All her favorites, naturally
Though she is the fairest flower of all
In his eyes and in his heart
He takes out a silver pocket watch
And checks the time
Runs his hand over the photograph
Ensconced in the lid and smiles.

At precisely 

Five minutes till midnight,

He climbs the curved staircase

And stands on the top step 

Staring at her bedroom door

That is bathed in moonlight

And long-ago memories that always feel recent

And he waits like a schoolboy

Awaiting his first taste of a woman's mouth

The anticipation is exquisite and glorious,

And at the same time, terrifying beyond words

But the brandy influenced bravery

Makes him wait, albeit with shaking hands.

Three years earlier,

She stood on the stairs

Waiting for him

There was no moonlight shining that night

But a strange wind violently blew the sheer curtains

Hanging on the open windows

And filled the air with silver strands of webs

Long ago abandoned by the ghosts of spiders

As the dark skies filled with storm clouds

That threatened to pour down

Like the tears in her eyes

And as they began to fall

She caught them in her open empty hands.

All night, she had waited there

Standing like a doll in her white silk negligee

A doll that could not walk or talk

But nevertheless possessed a human heart

That could be broken and was breaking now

He had called to say he'd be home late

And not to wait up

That he was busy at work and that he loved her

In a breathless, hurried voice

And had hung up before she could find her voice

She thought of the wonderful anniversary dinner

She had made especially for him

And the candles burning and the champagne on ice.

From her viewpoint

She could see the long driveway and the gate

Where she hoped he'd be pulling up to any minute

As he remembered it was their seventh anniversary

And made excuses at work

And made haste to hurry home 

With some convenience store cards and roses

And would throw his arms around her

With that sheepish look of his

As he promised to make it up to her

With a trip to Aruba or some exotic locale

And she would sigh and nod

And welcome him into her forgiving arms.

An hour later, 

She put the special dinner into a warming oven

And blew out the melted candles

And opened the bottle of his favorite champagne

And drank three glasses

One right after another

As she sat at the top of the stairs

Watching for the gate to open

And his sleek new car to appear on the driveway

She was disappointed in the ruined dinner

But she would get over it, she told herself

How could she not forgive the man

With his sheepish, adorable face?

And then the phone rang

And tipsy, she tripped over the hem of her gown

As she ran to pick it up in the bedroom

Breathless, she giggled and murmured 'hello'

In her sexiest voice

Anticipating all manner of ridiculous excuses

But just so happy to hear his voice

And glad the waiting was over

But it was not his voice she heard

But a female voice she did not recognize

A female voice asking for her husband

And complaining that she was tired of waiting

And would lock him out if he didn't call her soon.

She held the phone, trying to comprehend,

Her heart pounding like a drum

There then followed the customary

 Shocked exchange of questions:

"Who is this?" "Who are you?!"

"Why are you calling my home?"

"I'm calling to speak to my fiance.'"

"Well, since you're speaking to his wife,

I find that hard to believe."

"He told me he had never been married!"

"Seven years today!"

"You're lying. I don't believe you!"

And then, "Oh, never mind! He just walked in!"

The rest of the night

Passed in a blur of disbelieving tears 

And two empty bottles

Of his favorite champagne

She threw his dinner in the trash

Without eating a bite of it,

Tore the romantic anniversary cards in half,

Smashed the expensive and the funny gifts

She had bought for him with a hammer,

And pulled the CDs of their favorite songs

Out of the stereo and threw them like Frisbees

Against the stone fireplace

Never wanting to hear those songs again.

At some point, 

She started having second thoughts

Thinking it may have all been a cruel hoax

Or some prank pulled by a jealous woman

Who had a crush on her handsome, sexy husband

Who knows? She shrugged. It had happened before

And he had laughed it off and told her his usual stories

About how there were evil people out there 

That wanted what they had and wanted to ruin things

For those that were happy and in love

And convinced her she was making a big deal out of nothing

Didn't he love her more than life itself?

Of course he did.

"I'm being silly."

 She laughed, regretting her destructive tirade

"I'll call that liar back and give her a piece of my mind!"

She found the last call number on her phone

And pressed the button joyfully, 

Trying to think up something nasty to say that would sting

The phone was picked up

Then silence

Then her husband's voice came on the line

Her husband's voice

Her seventh Anniversary husband's voice

While a feminine voice giggled in the background

And entreated him to come back to bed.

The whole world spun round

Then crashed and burned

As her heart exploded in her chest

Like a burst balloon

She dropped the phone 

And watched it bounce all the way down the stairs

To hit the landing wall and smash and shatter

Even as her husband's voice kept asking

"Hello! Hello! Who is this?"

She collapsed in a heap of white silk

And Alfred Sung perfume

Her long black hair covering her tear-stained face

Like a shroud covering the death of a dream.

©By Voo
June 28, 2019

To Be Continued in Pt. 2.................................

maybe.....