by
Lyz Lenz
202
The Bachelorette Party
0
terms
1
notes
214
After the party, she’s wine drunk, and we are sitting on the back porch of her beautiful home. We told her husband we were going for a walk.
“Sure, leave! Don’t worry about cleaning up,” he said brightly. “This is why I pay people, to do all of this. So, sure, walk!”
I am afraid of him. I’m afraid of his forceful sarcasm and his beautiful home. So we do not go for a walk. Instead, we sit on the porch, and she cries. She tells me that she can never leave all this. It’s too much.
He comes out to check on us. “You still writing feminist drivel?” he asks and laughs at his own good humor.
“Yes,” I say. “There is a huge market for it.”
He walks away, and she cries more. I tell her leaving is the hardest part. We sit in silence staring out at her backyard. The pool is covered for the winter, and it looks like a black eye in the middle of the beautiful green lawn.
After the party, she’s wine drunk, and we are sitting on the back porch of her beautiful home. We told her husband we were going for a walk.
“Sure, leave! Don’t worry about cleaning up,” he said brightly. “This is why I pay people, to do all of this. So, sure, walk!”
I am afraid of him. I’m afraid of his forceful sarcasm and his beautiful home. So we do not go for a walk. Instead, we sit on the porch, and she cries. She tells me that she can never leave all this. It’s too much.
He comes out to check on us. “You still writing feminist drivel?” he asks and laughs at his own good humor.
“Yes,” I say. “There is a huge market for it.”
He walks away, and she cries more. I tell her leaving is the hardest part. We sit in silence staring out at her backyard. The pool is covered for the winter, and it looks like a black eye in the middle of the beautiful green lawn.