Word Count: 100
The Disappearing Man
For the hundredth time, he recognizes this as the moment he loses her.
She looks out the window at the restless pecking of a wren, relaxes into its movements.
He sees the colors drain from his world, like an old timey flick on a spool ticking the moments until the screen fades into flecks of black and then, THE END.
It’s the moment to bow out, without fuss. It’s just a social experiment, marriage, though it’s lasted five years.
“Let’s skip the play and stay home,” she says, turning, and he, seeing the colors return, says, “I’m not going anywhere.”
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