(Untitled), by Amy Friedman

Emerging from sleep, Janna opened her eyes to a pitch-dark bedroom. Scratch that: her favorite squishy pillow was still atop her head. Moving it aside, she saw the sky outside was still dark, but Tim’s bedside lamp was still lit. She swiped her finger across her watch for the backlight. 1:30 am. She hadn’t been asleep long.

Padding outside of the bedroom, she noticed Tim in his chair, his laptop resting on his great belly. His eyes remained focused, without a single flicker acknowledging her presence.

Sighing, she shut the door to the loo. This was no longer a marriage.

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