Today's Word - 'Prefix'
The acid swirling backwash leaves thin bitumen furred on the roof of my mouth as I stare blankly out of the window, phone bill in hand, listening bitterly to the slow rhythm inside my chest that gives no indication of a heart unbound from the chains of loving you.
How I wish I didn’t recognise that often dialled number, but the blindfold cannot be re-tied. No more will warm velvet ignorance keep me shackled. Why couldn’t you be clever in your cheating? Why not lie and say you misdialled by accident, or, better still, keep a special phone, secret, hidden away beneath that stash of car magazines that I will never bother to touch?
It is not to be. The reek of your descent into infidelity is upon the white sheet of paper, and even if the numbers fell from the page like ants scurrying from their doomed nest, I know they would leave indelible that prefix, the one that starts her number, dialled a dozen times.