Texting at Holidays can ruin the mood

Texting at Holidays can ruin the mood

fiction
Edward w Pritchard

repost/ edit

Texting at Holidays can ruin the mood Molly. Molly, after I take the Lexus in for the twenty dollar car wash morning special, I should drive over to the West Point Market to buy two extra large  coddled red azaleas, one for the hall near the real silver framed mirror where you hang your scarves and keys when you come in from teaching and a second bright red azalea in a silver box for you to take to your Mother's a few days before Thanksgiving as the annual surprise.

It's hard for me to get anything done when I keep looking at my cell phone for a text from you Molly. I am afraid things might have went too far and you will be sending me that text you yelled at me about. How's Mrs. Parker from school? Is her leg better? I can take her some bourbon flavored sweet potatoes like you made last year for her and me if you wish.  Pete and Laura from the Trust Department were asking about you, they invited us over for drinks Friday after Thanksgiving. The new baby is seven months old now. She crawls and you know Pete she talks already he says.

I missed you this weekend. The house seems so lonely without you. I think I will head over too the West Point Market and get the Azalea's, I will put them in the hall by the silver mirror if you just want to stop by for a minute and pick them up, I'll leave you my bonus check too, signed, we got 4,000 this year in case you want to shop this weekend. I think I'll get two bottles of bourbon for me in case you don't make it back to the house for a while. Just don't text me goodbye Molly.


Don't text me good-bye Molly, the breakup

Don't text me Molly.

Listen to my voice mail and call me

or, come to the house.

Be mad at me,

slap my shoulder, Molly

thump my chest with the back of your hand.

Pour my bottle of French Cognac down the drain again. 

Talk to me Molly, I want to hear your voice.

Use your small voice. Tell me how you feel.

I need to taste your smell again. 

Lock yourself in the bathroom again and cry.

Sit on the floor in the lotus position and bang the back of

the bathroom door with your fists again. 

Sleep all night in the car in a snow storm rather than come to our bed.  

Please don't text me Goodbye Molly

Texting  is;
stealthfully premeditated, passionless, words over words, impersonal symbols, guileful phases, hidden feelings, logical darts to the heart. No way to talk to a friend.

Come back to the house Molly. Lets argue. Throw things, put the baseball card collection on the curb again.  

Don't text me good-bye Molly,

Call me,

love Bobbie
happy Holidays