Pretend
Current mood: cold
Category: Writing and Poetry
The smile appears on cue now, and only the acute eye can note the slight insincerity. She knows, because she knows everything about him, but she does not care anymore, because the smile is better than the other.
And in the most profound sense of irony she pretends not to notice. Her smile appears less often, she has never played the game as well, or maybe she just doesn't want to work that hard.
The phone rings and the voice is charming and again she knows, and this voice grates across her ears like chalk on a wet board. No irony here, he knows she dislikes it and never pretends to conceal it.
The cards and flowers arrive as do the invitations to celebrate the festal intimacies, and they both know, but the days pass as do the nights. Her ears are rarely tickled with adoring adulations, and sweet notions are buried deep in dresser drawers.
The winks they share across rooms are no more than idiosyncratic gestures as are many trites. Chuckles and *vambrants are shared but not relished. Two bodies in sync by routine.
Proclamations are made, of this couples undying love, as friends do, and they play it well.
The annivereries come and go, toasts are made and the diamond grows in size. He places each new one on her finger, careful now of her frail bones, as relatives and friends applaud.
Today even the most unsuspecting guest knows the short smile is forced. He tries but he can no longer pull the facial muscles to render the illusion. Something is missing... it is her. She has taken with her, that which he never knew he had. As she lays in her final sleep the painful realization hits him hard. The smiles, the winks , and the *vambrants were as real as the life that has now past.
He cries and not even a fool would suspect the tears,
* The word vambrant belongs to the author and describes the short rants that follow jokes told .
