Wren grew up with both housing and food insecurity. Addicted mom, convict dad. Shuffled around, sometimes to foster homes where the family dog was more wanted than she was. For a brief time, she had an Aunt who loved her fiercely. Keep picking yourself up little Wren. You’ll find one day you’ve the wings of a Kestrel.
After she got her business degree, she changed her name to Kess. She had a stable job, and her refrigerator was stocked. She took in strays: mostly people occasionally animals, including an iguana. She’d come home to the tiny house she’d financed with the legacy her aunt left in trust when she turned 21, to three or four people listening to music, smoking a little, hanging out for the free food she would cook. The iguana watched from atop the curtain rod. She wanted to offer a safe place to sleep and meals, but when was enough enough?
When she met Jason, she stopped picking up strays. Her household slowly emptied as the strays moved on. The last to leave took the iguana. Jason moved in.
After Two and a half years of smooth sailing, Kess and Jason started fighting over almost everything. Scattered clothes, dirty dishes, late nights, inattention, insensitivity, wants, needs. They were driving a dark windy road from a weekend in the mountains when Jason dropped a bomb: he wants an open relationship. Kess looked up almost in time to swerve but hit a critter. Pulling to the side of the road she discovered an injured dog. Jason helped scoop it into the picnic blanket and they went in search of an emergency vet.
Six hours, $3747.26 later, they had a tri-pawed. The last thing they needed was a dog. Three days later, Jason lost his job. Jason felt it more important to focus on his identity as a polyamorist than he did in finding a new job. Kess, wanting to be supportive moved him from the bedroom to the couch. Returning home from a day where everything that could go wrong caused everything else to go wrong, Kess walked into a Zoom date with Jason and three other people. He’d wired his laptop to project on the 45” TV. There were both men and women on the call. Mostly undressed. In her living room.
She switched off the television, went over to the computer and got in close: we’re done here. She closed the laptop. She wanted Jason gone then and there; she gave him until the weekend. Lucky, the tri-pawed could stay.
— Lkai
After she got her business degree, she changed her name to Kess. She had a stable job, and her refrigerator was stocked. She took in strays: mostly people occasionally animals, including an iguana. She’d come home to the tiny house she’d financed with the legacy her aunt left in trust when she turned 21, to three or four people listening to music, smoking a little, hanging out for the free food she would cook. The iguana watched from atop the curtain rod. She wanted to offer a safe place to sleep and meals, but when was enough enough?
When she met Jason, she stopped picking up strays. Her household slowly emptied as the strays moved on. The last to leave took the iguana. Jason moved in.
After Two and a half years of smooth sailing, Kess and Jason started fighting over almost everything. Scattered clothes, dirty dishes, late nights, inattention, insensitivity, wants, needs. They were driving a dark windy road from a weekend in the mountains when Jason dropped a bomb: he wants an open relationship. Kess looked up almost in time to swerve but hit a critter. Pulling to the side of the road she discovered an injured dog. Jason helped scoop it into the picnic blanket and they went in search of an emergency vet.
Six hours, $3747.26 later, they had a tri-pawed. The last thing they needed was a dog. Three days later, Jason lost his job. Jason felt it more important to focus on his identity as a polyamorist than he did in finding a new job. Kess, wanting to be supportive moved him from the bedroom to the couch. Returning home from a day where everything that could go wrong caused everything else to go wrong, Kess walked into a Zoom date with Jason and three other people. He’d wired his laptop to project on the 45” TV. There were both men and women on the call. Mostly undressed. In her living room.
She switched off the television, went over to the computer and got in close: we’re done here. She closed the laptop. She wanted Jason gone then and there; she gave him until the weekend. Lucky, the tri-pawed could stay.
— Lkai
Polyamorist vs. Tri-pawed. No doubt about who's going to win I enjoyed the story.
ReplyDeleteHad to look up "tri-pawed." Oh, no! But this is a sweet story. This prompt seemed to engender that. Even I could not resist. Polyamory isn't "evil," y'know, but I suppose that wasn't what Kess signed up for. ---Macoff
ReplyDelete