Bill Hammons: Writing and Running in Boulder, Colo.

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16

Henry squirmed beneath the satin. “The radio?”

“Yes, the radio, then he read about you in the paper--” Elaine twisted her head towards her bedmate in the near-complete darkness. “Henry, you don’t--”

“No, I’d rather not know.”

“Where are you going?”

“The bathroom.” Henry shut the door behind himself and ran the faucet to cover the sound of his retching.

When he returned, Elaine was sitting up in the lamplight. “I hope I didn’t upset you.”

“No, not at all,” Henry told her. “Must’ve been that salmon we had for dinner.” He eased himself back under the covers and turned the light off, and then the two rested in the silence of the room for a full minute before he asked, “So what’s your husband like? Is he old?”

“Why do you ask that?” Pause. “Okay, he is old, but not too. Forty-five.”

“Old enough to be your father. No offense.”

“None taken, Henry,” Elaine replied in a sigh. “Yes, he’s old and overbearing and not too great in bed. At least not as great as some people.”

“Not to pry. Why’d you marry him?”

Elaine paused again, then held her enormous wedding ring over the covers. “Diamonds are a girl’s best friend, Henry.” Then, after staring at it for a long while, she slowly pulled the ring off and placed it on the nighttable.

----------------------------------------

“Hello there.”

“Hey.” Elaine didn’t smile at or kiss Henry as she entered the room and walked to its center, though she smiled when she glanced at the screen of his laptop. “You’ve finally come up with something!”

Henry closed the laptop on

s.t.u.d.

by

Richard Widewood

and dropped his hands to his sides as he looked his client up and down. “Can I take your coat?”

“No, Henry, you may not.” Elaine seated herself on the end of his immaculate bed. “I’m not staying.”

“What do you mean?” Henry took a seat himself, in his writing chair.

“I’m leaving you, Henry. Just like I’m leaving Roger.”

“Why?”

“There are a lot of why’s. The biggest one is that I’m late.”

Henry looked at his watch. “Boy, tell me about it.”

“No, Henry.” Elaine hunched her shoulders in his direction and gave him a condescending smile. “My period is late.”

s.t.u.d. by W.R. Hammons:

1/ 2/ 3/ 4/ 5/ 6/ 7/ 8/ 9/ 10/ 11/ 12/ 13/ 14/ 15/ 16/ 17/ 18/ 19

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