I had always thought I loved my husband. It is not something I had ever actively felt but I thought it had to be in there somewhere. For 12 years, I had stayed with him without quarrel or coercion. Together we were raising three children without any dramatic disagreement on the hows. I was content and he appeared to be. And then that morning, as I swept the verandah, having seen the children off to school, my husband stepped out of the house ---his slight potbelly first. I looked up and gazed at his head --- graying in tufts here and there but still mostly black. My gaze slowly traveled down his length. Shoulders still broad. A moustache and that gently bulging potbelly which werent there when we first married. Legs still long and those grey slacks hugging them loosely, fashionably. Suddenly I felt profoundly shy yet also brazenly excited. I was actively loving my husband. Now I knew that I loved my husband. I dropped the broom, walked the length of the veranda to where he was, squatting as he laced his shoes. I said rather simply, “dear husband, the children have gone to school and I don’t have a headache.” #RandomScenes #HowStoriesArrive
Posted on: Wed, 10 Sep 2014 08:19:36 +0000