The last few of the sun’s rays were just beginning to disappear towards the horizon when Antonio’s Pontiac swerved down yet another residential street, not a clean or slow swerve as the DMV would request, but rather briskly, only stopping at the last possible instant with a hard break that slightly thrust it forward. It seemed like every single bit of annoyance suppressed throughout the day and reserved from long ago was beginning to seep from the containment in his mind and into his muscles. To such an extent was his frustration that he had passed several streets beyond his own before realizing and was now going through the grueling effort of navigating the absolute mess of unplanned streets that was this unplanned neighborhood. See people this is why we need proper city planning. Every person’s messes all adding up and up and left for those uninvolved to sort out by themselves. Infuriated even more by these thoughts of city planning Antonio slammed his foot down on the pedal, as if he weren’t already well beyond the speed limit. As the car surged forward the envelope that had been resting on the car’s dashboard slipped down to the floor. Was there really no way for the universe to grant him one small break? Loosening the pressure on the gas pedal, he glanced around him to find no other human presence and quickly ducked down for the damned thing. Yet before he was even able to throw it back over the dashboard the car jolted around, surges of force going throughout it and smacking Antonio with reality. He immediately slammed his foot on the break and dropped the letter onto the floor again. With such a strong strike it was clear he had hit something, yet what exactly it was wasn’t clear. All within a matter of seconds he pulled the shift stick into parking mode, threw open the door, and jumped out to examine the situation.

The sight itself, well not even he could decide if he was more distraught or relieved at finding a small dog rather than a human. With hesitant fingers he reached out to the small thing, running the back of his hand against the fur and watching the pool of blood around it gradually grow larger. As he did so he couldn't help but notice something similar about the dog, it's fur, it's color, the way one ear was folded over, each and every detail piling up as dread in his very soul. This couldn't be quite right, it was just a simple coincidence, just a cruel joke to himself. Now tired of all the bullshit in just one day he snatched the collar around the dog's neck, that would put an end to all these doubts, prove he was worrying for nothing. Yet the collar bearing only the name Veasna instead only proved quite the contrary. Without even allowing himself time to think he snatched up the dead dog and brought him to the car, dropping him in the trunk before once again rushing down the street.

What of all things was he doing with his life in those moments? Years ago Antonio had sat down with a small notebook and pen and planned out the remainder of his life. Sure enough by using such a small notebook he’d fill it up and leave no room for anything he didn’t want in it. Sure enough by using a pen he wouldn’t be able to go back on his promises to himself. So with such painstaking efforts all taken to assure his happiness, where the hell had he gone wrong in his path to end up driving in circles, lost in his own neighborhood, with a dead dog in his trunk? This all made no sense from absolutely any angle, yet it also seemed impossible to pinpoint the exact moment when his plan had begun dissolving. No, no, no, no. The plan was still intact, this was merely a small setback, a little hurdle that had to be pushed away. No, not quite pushed away, rather it had to be obliterated in every manner of way. It needed to be poisoned to it's very core, kicked to the curb, drowned, mutilated, torn apart, thrown off the highest point, buried so far down it could never crawl back out, and burned to the point of no return.

“Fruit!” That random calling, yelled out with an obnoxiously joyous voice, snapped Antonio back out of his thoughts. He seemed to have been caught in a sort of auto-pilot mode with his body acting on its own while his brain failed to conceive anything farther than his own rambled thoughts. Hadn’t he been rushing down the street not even a moment ago? Now he found himself in his home’s driveway, trying to shut his car door while an annoying little voice went on about fruit behind him. “Just picked ‘em this morning! They aren’t perfect but ahh I sure am proud of ‘em!”

“No thank you,” Antonio muttered, slowly turning behind him to face the fruit maniac, scared of being met with the familiar face. Yet fate was cruel and it was his neighbor’s gardener holding out a basket of freshly picked apples with their blossoms still decorating them. Even if Antonio wasn’t allergic to the blossom’s pollen the same couldn’t be said for this neighbor. There was nothing particularly harsh or rude of Cian’s nature that may have made him so unbearable but rather it was quite the opposite. The man was just so lively, so optimistic, so chatty and extroverted, such a complete polar opposite to Antonio that it unsettled him. What was it that motivated this 50-something year-old man to jump all around the neighborhood in his frenzies of never-ending energy, offering all kinds of fruits and pushing himself far beyond everyone’s personal space? Surely nothing good.

“Please! They’re fresh! The bosses don’t need as much fruit as they grow. It's really better for them to be put to use than to rot away,” Cian pressed on, pushing the basket into Antonio’s arms. So endlessly pushy that he made any conversation seem like a waste of time. Even his eyes seemed to be a warning sign, a bright almost neon green, like some kind of rainforest frog displaying its poison with vibrant colors.

“I really don’t want your leftovers,” Antonio hissed back, but it seemed like it’d take a lot more than that to push this man away.

“Even if they’re not to your taste I’m sure your family will enjoy them!” Once again Antonio went on high alert. Was this some sort of threat? “I was speaking with your wife the other day and she offered to take any extra fruit off of my hands. Don’t take it as a gift to you but as a gift to her.”

“Seeing as you aren’t planning on shutting up,” Antonio grumbled, yanking the basket away. The day had already been exhausting enough as it was, if he wanted to preserve even a bit of his sanity then arguing about fruit was not precisely the way to go.

“You’re quite lucky mister…,” Cian called out again. Antonio began to wonder how serious of a criminal offense assaulting someone with a basket of apples would be. “A nice car, a nice house, a beautiful wife, and a darling child…”

Antonio stopped, this time not due to being irked by Cian’s words but rather somewhat amazed by a sort of sincerity coming from them. So it truly was possible for something other than complete nonsense to leave his mouth. “Yes, I suppose…”

“I guess my only regret in life would be to not have tried harder to have a family to call my own, ah! Antonio,” Cian asked, glancing around yet finding Antonio to be nowhere. As soon as Cian had started on with his ravings of a regretted life he had rushed to his home. There there was peace and no green-eyed morons to disturb his rest. “HEY! Antonio!”

Yet at this point Antonio was long gone, leaning on his door with the basket pressed to his chest, just in case Cian tried to enter behind him. After a few minutes of standing there he finally seemed to be convinced that Cian wasn’t following in pursuit and allowed himself to relax, placing the basket of apples onto the floor and continuing further into his home. Still then he didn’t seem to have lost that feeling of deep anxiety that coursed through his blood with every heartbeat, like some sort of drug it didn’t fade out yet grow stronger from the moment, Growing, growing, would it ever end, would it explode with force? Why couldn’t it do so now, why wait so long? Slowly he took another step towards his living room, the dread growing at a higher rate than he thought possible. So what was it, what was causing these horrible premonitions?

Finally he arrived in his living room, and nothing else. What else could be there but his wife sleeping peacefully on the sofa, her lips curled into a soft smile, indicating the most pleasant of dreams. Even while deep into sleep there still seemed to be a sort of snarky confidence in her every breath, the type that could only belong to someone with the ability to easily talk someone into corners without ever coming close to losing their control or enjoyment of the situation. In her arms lay their child, equally deep into a peaceful slumber. There, that was right, that’s how it was meant to be. Any sense of worry seemed to immediately slip right off as he walked towards her, sitting down on the floor and leaning his head against the sofa as well. Now sitting there in the serenity of his quiet living room, his wife’s slow breathing coming reassuringly from behind him, it seemed like centuries ago that he had been afflicted by any sense of fear.

“Antonio?” Upon hearing this he jumped slightly and turned around to face his wife, not quite from being surprised but instead with a sense of excitement as might be seen in a dog.

“Jane,” he answered back. There was a sort of mysticism in the way that the name left his lips, almost as if he himself was incredulous at the fact that yes, this woman did truly exist and through the greatest blessing to come across his life she was actually his wife. He even had to stop himself from saying her full name, Jane Lovure, to confirm once again that this wasn’t just a dream.

“You’re home,” she noted. He nodded excitedly but didn’t say anything, slightly afraid that if he was too loud this blissful scene might fade away. Then Jane yawned, holding her hand over her mouth while Antonio did his best to not reach out for it. “I’m tired…”

“Dad,” their child had been stirred awake by the murmurs and held his arm out towards Antonio. This time Antonio didn’t hesitate in reaching out as well and grabbing the child’s hand. After all this really was concrete, this was his life and nothing could change that anymore. “We went to the store today!”

“Oh? Did you buy anything, Otis,” he asked in return. The child stopped for a moment, simply lying there and pondering on what had actually happened earlier.

“Goods and services,” Otis announced proudly yet clearly had no idea what the words he was saying even meant. Yet before he could be questioned about this he swiveled his head around trying to make sense of his surroundings. “I’m hungry.”

“How about you go wash your hands and we can start making dinner,” Antonio suggested, with much more patience than he could have for anyone else. The child, not having much resolve of his own, agreed and rushed off to do as he was told. After watching him disappear into the hallway Jane chuckled to herself and sat up.

“How was work,” she asked mid-stretch. Wait, was that his shirt that she was wearing? It truly did suit her a lot more than it did him.

“Manageable… but Avila wants me to go take care of some business in Atlanta,” he whispered, somewhat afraid that if he spoke any louder she might be able to hear the lies.

“Really? When?”

“I’d have to leave tomorrow but once I’m there it should only take a day, not even that, just a few hours,” he mumbled on. Jane only nodded along with a gentle smile that seemed to bite into Antonio’s heart as he stumbled around trying to find any plausible explanation to cover up his lies.

“So about five days,” she noted. Without any further questioning even crossing her mind she jumped up from the couch, allowing Antonio to let out a sigh of relief. There was no need to be so worried, this should be the last lie. There was no reason for this to not go according to plan. There was nothing that would stand in his way for much longer. Suddenly, coming in to cut into his thoughts, Jane swooped down and pressed a kiss onto his lips. “Hmm I think I’m hungry too. What’s the plan for dinner?”

And just like that she sauntered off to the kitchen, without sparing a glance behind her where she would have seen Antonio remaining on the floor, flustered by her every action. Even years into their marriage he remained fascinated by every small detail he noticed about her. The way that at her smile the corners of her mouth would twist upwards in a matter that was just as angelic as it was devilish. The way in which she could fold a tie almost on instinct, without needing to even so much as glance down to see what she was doing. The shine in her eyes that would never fade out, not even in the most dire of circumstances. Yes, each and every one of these things were always within easy reach of his thoughts, never to be forgotten.

“AH! That’s what I was supposed to do,” she suddenly recalled, snapping her fingers as she did so. Antonio’s happy thoughts were put on a momentary pause as he began to fear that he might know what she would say. “I forgot to feed Veasna when I got home.”

“NO! I- you don’t have to worry about that-” Antonio jumped up from the floor, his voice gradually growing softer as he ransacked his mind once again for excuses. While he struggled to think Jane stared at him, the edges of his lips slowly turning downwards. But was it necessary to always lie? Perhaps sometimes technicalities can spare the harsh blow of a truth. “I already took care of that…”

“I’m hungry,” Otis called out, running past his parents and towards the kitchen, a rare occasion in which children were actually useful. Yet Jane’s eyes remained focused on Antonio, her lips still frozen at that point where he had started talking.

“Ok,” she finally said, letting out a small smile once again before following Otis to the kitchen. There it finally was, perfect domestic bliss, sheltered by lies, yes, but that was only the smallest of sacrifices that Antonio would take to have it. Now with nothing to fear in the meanwhile, Antonio Lovure smiled, letting all worries slip from his mind.