It was a summer afternoon, a typical haze in the climate. 1956 to be precise. I sat on the porch of my farmhouse estate gazing out into the green fields of grass a glass of lemonade clenched between my palm. “Peter?” Miriam called, her brunette hair wired tightly into large bouffant curls. “Must you stay here all day?” I nodded quietly, the breeze licking up like flames.

“Why is there something the matter?”

I shook my head turning it towards the field. “Well Peter you can’t just stay here all day.”

“Who says I can’t?”

“It’s impractical.”

“Well I’m not the only one being impractical, I mean what do you even do at all these outings?”

“It’s simple, I talk and make friends something you don’t do.”

Angrily I stood up my head turning grey, raising a hand above her cheek I freeze. She runs off crying my hand still mid-air.

“I’m sorry- I didn’t-“ rubbing my hand across my forehead I panic. “I go into the farmhouse and go upstairs where she’s packing a small suitcase. “Get away from me.” She says fumbling to get a sock into her suitcase. “Miriam,

I don’t know what happened I just got so-“

“Angry, mad, enraged?”

I nodded my eyes darting at every piece of clothing lodged into the suitcase. “Please don’t go i’ll make it up to you.”

“Will you? Because lately that’s getting a little old.”

“I’m sorry.” Defeated I sit on the floor of the doorway, she carries on packing. “I’m a horrible husband.”

She nods still packing her suitcase.

“I just-“

She pauses, “This is supposed to of happened a long time ago ok?”

I nod, a tear starts to trickle down my eye then another then another then another until my face are wet with tears. She picks up her suitcase as I hear the front door close behind her.

A month or so passes and I haven’t seen her since, I keep staring at my wedding ring twiddling it around my finger pondering whether I should take it off or not. The house feels empty without her. The sky less hazy and the breeze less cool. I keep working as a distraction, whether it’s the chickens that need sorting or the fields that need to be tended I just keep on working. It’s the one thing that can be the same, some order to this mess. I keep going to local bars to eat, wallowing my insecurities and problems to the bartender. Hell, I think they’re sick and tired of it. I come home one evening, still drunk, when I hear a knock on a door. “Doors- it’s open.”

Miriam’s sister Penny steps inside. “God Peter, are you drunk?”

“Kinda- I smile tears running down my face.”

“Listen, it’s Miriam- she’s in the hospital.”

“What’s wrong with her.” I’m slurring my words.

“She’s pregnant, with you’re baby.”

Note: doesn’t quite fit the assignment but idc to be honest… either way a fun piece of writing to write. I hope you liked it.