The Leaving

The Leaving

By Andrew Massey

So that was it. Plain. Simple. Easy as you like. Standing in the hallway, bag clasped in each hand, wearing the jeans and boots I'd bought for her 25th, smile on her face.

'I'm going. Goodbye.'

'That's it?' Five years together and she's there like Mary Poppins grinning and looking down at me. At least she has a single tear from one eye. 'Who is it?'

'Who's who?'

'Dave from the gym? Peter, our squash partner?'

'None of the above Phil, you know it's only you.'

'Not' oh God no, 'Jenni from work? A damn lesbo?'

'Get real - I've said it once. It's no-one else.'

By now she's out on the doorstep, stars at her back as I look across our 50 acres, our place. Wonder if she'll buy it out from me or force the sale?

'Where will you be? Will I see you again?'

'Dunno' she mumbles, looking at her watch. 'Should be here soon.'

'At least tell me why. I mean, you only said you'd leave this place for one thing ... I have to at least know what I've done.'

At this she turns to face me and finally look in my eyes. I see she isn't really grinning. Its a grimace, like fear and longing rolled into one. Uncertain, yet determined. Her makeup is tracked, more than one tear it seems.

'I did ask' she says slowly, 'but they said no.'


'Well', and by now she was dissolving slowly into a multi-coloured shaft of light, 'they only asked me.'


Copyright 1998 by Andrew Massey

Bio, E-mail, and URL:

"My name is Andrew Massey, Im 30 yrs old, married, no ankle biters yet. I live in Townsville Australia, and when I am not stargazing or getting feet wet on the reef, I work for the Tax Office in the city.

ANY feedback at all, hints, whatever would be greatly appreciated."

Andrew can be e-mailed at:

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