Somewhere Else

Microfiction

Photo by Nubelson Fernandes on Unsplash

“You stopped playing with my hair when you got your new phone,” Olivia whispered.  

The words hung in the air either unnoticed or abandoned.

Sam’s glossy-eyed gaze remained transfixed to the screen in his hand. He wasn’t reading anything important. It was just another endless feed of images and bits of text from people he’d never spoken to in person – nothing of any true relevance.

“Sam?” she asked gently. But he was lost – somewhere else.

He shared a life with the woman who lay beside him in bed, yet he hadn’t spoken to her in days. They’d talked, sure, but he never really listened. He was never immersed or fully engaged in her passions or pursuits, her dreams. The conversations were as one-sided as a widow’s who spoke to her husband’s tombstone on a rainy day toward the end of spring, hoping she could have a few more minutes with her best friend.

Sam offered up vague affirmations, one or two word responses that he assumed would satisfy Olivia’s need to be wanted and desired: her need to be loved.

Little did he know that his disinterest was slowly killing his “Liv” – as he had so frequently called her. Each stultified response he made – the utterance of every monotone syllable – twisted the dagger a bit more. She was torn to shreds.

“Good night.” She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.

“Night,” he replied. But he wouldn’t even give her his eyes.

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