I hated work assignments that I had to bring home. My ‘office’ at home felt nothing like an office. It may be my concrete mindset that is not flexible enough for me to trick myself into believing my own home is anything like that bland, banal and boring room of endless labor.
But too much was at stake, and I earned too little to keep the food on the plates, so it had to be done; my work had to invade my sacrosanct home. Thus, it was to a weary and agitated husband that my wife greeted upon my return to home. And this warm greeting was itself greeted by me curtly muttering, “Got work,” before I holed myself up in my ‘office’.
I didn’t think much of how rude I was then, as the workload was the only thing on my mind, consuming my thoughts and debilitating my cognition. On the other hand, with work being the sole focus of my attention, I finished all of it before my wife’s bedtime. So when I walked out of the office and into the kitchen to pour myself some warm milk, there she was.
She was sprawled easily on the couch, illuminated by a flickering TV screen which highlighted her features, which were then drawn into a bored daze. She was wearing a deep velvety purple bathrobe, which was tied loosely around her waist and her black lingerie peeked out at me from beneath. As I walked in, the bored hazy expression flitted from her face, to be replaced by relief brightening her up for a second, before it segued into a cheeky expression.
“Come here,” she purred, “I’ve been waiting to take a shower all night.”
Then she added, “With you.”
Word Count: 291
This is in fact inspired from something I dreamt a few nights back. It was such a pleasant dream. I wonder if married life would indeed be as I dream it to be.