“But maybe it is. Was I out of line?”

Aaron searched frantically through the cabinet behind the bathroom mirror until his fingers caught what he was looking for. A orange-brownish, white capped, white labeled, translucent little bottle. He turned on the cold water and took the last two pills as fast as he could. It was all executed in one long, fluid motion. The cold water felt good in his mouth and on his face.

“Damn. That could have turned into a enormous headache. Must remember to go get some more.” he said to his mirror self.

“Lucy!” he yelled hoping his wife would come down for coffee. He loved having coffee in the morning with her, it was their special moment. Hazy eyes, hazy thoughts, loose clothes. It was that golden moment before real life and time happened to them. Too sleepy or hungover to realize they would have to get dressed, go to work and postpone their lives until evening came.

He heard a groan from upstairs. That usually meant that that she was going to sleep in. Lucy loved to sleep more than the average person. She could go on a sleeping binge at any time of the day. Her record so far was 18 hours without waking up for toilet breaks or food. Since she mostly worked from home Aaron saw no need to wake her up. After all it was Friday, he could go to his shitty cubicle job earlier and leave earlier in the evening. They could get a head start on the weekend.

Aaron went to get dressed. He put a Metallica t-shirt on, the one with the cover art from Master of Puppets album. There was a time when he would only wear a tucked in shirt and a tie to work, even a suit on some days, but those days were long gone. He figured, since it hadn’t happened in the last two years, that no one would give him a raise or a better job based on his smart looks. He’d hit the ‘Fuck It’ marker - as he liked to call it - on this job just as it happened on the other ones before. At least he wasn’t completely expendable, in the sense that it would be too tiresome of a process to hire someone else to do his job.

“Fat. Fat and saggy. The good life.” he said to himself in the mirror with a look of disgust on his face. He could remember a time when he was slimmer, more agile, better in bed, but that has all gone away now. It was curious how Lucy still loved him and slept with him. She even orgasmed most of the times they had sex. Him sweating like a whore during Sunday mass on top of her, flopping his fat belly on top of hers. By the time they were usually done both of them would be covered in sweat, his sweat.

Making his way to the front door he put aside the thoughts of a better him, of a healthier lifestyle. The truth was he was living in a degrading complacency. By the time he made it to the door, he noticed the mud all over the floor tiles. It was like someone had dumped a fuck-load of mud there on purpose.

“Goddamned dog.” he thought to himself. “At least one of us is having fun.”

...to be continued...