MicroHorror

Eleven o’clock. Maureen was almost asleep when she heard Jack coming in. He had left about nine without saying a word to her.

“Where have you been going the last few nights?” she asked as he got into bed.

“We’ve had this discussion, what, fifteen, thirty, maybe forty times now. I thought it was set when we agreed to move in together that there were parts of each of our lives that the other wouldn’t delve into. It isn’t a game; we agreed that our love depended on it. This was going to be the advantage that our relationship had over everybody else’s. Remember, we agreed that we were a perfect match; I would be the yin to your yang, you would be the ace to my deuce. I try very hard to come in quietly and not make a racket in case you’re already asleep. Asking me over and over isn’t going to net you any additional information; some things just have to be considered out-of-bounds. I’m too tired tonight to put up with this back-and-forth volley of questions and answers like I was on trial in some court.” He rolled over to go to sleep.

So typically Jack, thought Maureen. Yeah, we did agree, but I don’t know why I ever thought such a stupid idea was a good thing. I guess at one time I thought his odd behavior, the unusual way he phrased things, and the strange inflections in his words were cute. But they’ve all gotten pretty old. Now they’re just plain annoying. I don’t know how long I can live like this.

Wide awake now, she grabbed the remote and flipped on the nightly news. She turned up the volume so she could hear over his soft snoring.

“And in breaking news: for the third night in a row, fear is gripping residents who live near the city’s playgrounds. The mutilated body of another young woman was found on a tennis court at…”