The Jug

He’d bought the jug for their first anniversary. She’d always hated it. It had become the focus of all her resentments. It symbolised all that was wrong. As he brought home his “sorry” flowers she dumped them in. Not that he called them that, she did, in her mind, as she watched him charm and flirt with anything in a skirt. He thought she didn’t know that he only bought flowers when he had something to hide. Was he in for a surprise.

As the removalists backed out of the driveway with the contents of the house within, she carefully place the jug in the middle of the bedroom floor. Symbolically, she left it empty.  Then she left the room, left the house, locked it behind her and left the key under the mat. Without a backward glance she drove off to her new life.

Copyright April 2013


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