Steph's entry

 

He can't look her in the eye.

Glazed eyes staring into the space above her head.

Pancakes cold on the breakfast table.

No one can eat in the house now; her words stuck to the floors of his mind.

Burnt coffee-maker steam.

She's crying.

Dancing particles of last nights passion pirouette loosely in the broken morning light.

How could she do this thing; this horrid thing?

No one can eat in the house now; her words, her words...

"I'm leaving you for Mike the Space Monkey."

He can't look her in the eye.

I mean... come on, that's just gross.