by Marc Littman
“I never noticed that about you,” I let an errant comment escape.
“After 12 years of marriage you discovered I’m left-handed?” my wife Sheila volleyed back.
“No, I noticed that last year. Something in your eyes.”
“How alluring they are? At least you’re paying attention to me,” she smirked.
“Hard not to when you’re stuck together for months at home during quarantine,” I slipped again and fumbled to regain control. “I mean being a workaholic I haven’t been around enough to notice you. Sorry.”
And then I turned away quickly for fear I’d see the resentment in Sheila’s eyes again.
About the author
Marc's short stories have been published in a variety of publications from Entropy Squared and Flash Fiction Magazine to the Saturday Evening Post. He has also penned two novels and is an emerging playwright. He lives in Los Angeles.