The alarm shattered what was left of my nerves. I launched a left hook at it and watched it bang into the wallpaper leaving a mark that would require some tender loving care. I didn’t know what I should do first, shower or shave. The decision was too much for my almost zombie-like state of directionless thought.I gave up and brewed a pot of coffee in automatic mode and allowed my brain go into pilotless control wishing that same ploy would work for everything else I had to face that day.The refrigerator was a mess of outdated milk and left-overs from only God knew when. I pulled out an uncut loaf of bread and sawed off two sloppy slices of Jewish rye and cooked them up under the broiler in the stove because there was no way the things could fit into the toaster that required neat slices cut with a lot more precision.I opened the front door.No fucking newspaper.I wanted to scream out...”Typical!”Then the memory kicked in and I had to sit down for a moment and let my tears flow in. It was better then most of the people that we knew, friends or otherwise. Of course, we had our problems, our stresses, and it did have the tendency to put a glitch in every now and then. Our sex life was always good, but it too had been lacking because life was getting in the way. He was away on business a lot, I was studying for my Masters, and we had kids. Not a whole lot of time for each other. Most of our time was spent in bed, talking a little, sleeping a lot. It was an endless barrage of get up and go, go, go, kiss each other now and then, hope for a quite Friday or Saturday morning where nothing was planned and try to get some nookie in then. I understood his frustration because I was feeling the same. One after noon, we were in a market place shopping, having some quite time alone, for a change. For some reason, we were shopping where we don’t normally shop, the hard-wear department. He picked up some thing and made some naughty gesture, and that lit the fire. We started.
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