Here's a short story.
If you spellcheck/grammar check better than I do, feel free to send me corrections and I'll try to make the changes.
Bursting at the Seams
Margaret held the cock in her hand. She hated this Wednesday ritual, not so much for what it meant on Wednesday, but because of what followed on Thursday. On Wednesday, it was just her and George. On Thursday, George's friends would come over to play cards and she would have to take care of them, too.
Margaret's hand focused on the plumpness of the cock in her hand. She knew that if she let her thoughts stray they would drift to the heat, the solitude, and then to the regret of finding herself still married to George, the one time big fish in a small pond. Over the years, the pond had grown smaller when a few stores and a couple subdivisions sprouted in the place of corn on the northwest corner of town. George, the small town hero who had once scored the game winning touchdown, made the game winning basket, and hit the game winning walk off home run in the same year against the bastards from Kaneland, had seen all his high school records fall last year to the punks from the new subdivision. Margaret did not even begin to understand the depression that seemed to follow.
She listened to George's passionless exertions. She knew he would never change; could never change. He would always push until his task was done and then flop onto the couch to wait for bedtime. She distracted herself by glancing at the shelf holding all of George's dusty high school trophies and the picture of him at the prom with some pretty blond who had somehow managed to escape to New York during college.
"George, I was thinking of going into town tomorrow...."
"Shh. Margie, I can't talk right now," he grunted.
Margaret gripped the cock tighter and tried to hurry. She knew she would get the same kind of treatment tomorrow. Once they were finished, they would retire to the attic to smoke and play pool leaving her alone to clean up.
George came to an abrupt stop. "Alright," he growled stopping and catching his breath. "I'm going to go watch some TV." Just like that he was gone.
Margaret spent most of the next hour finishing some chores wondering if Chuck really meant for her to "stop by anytime," like he had said with a wink the last time she had gone to the grocery store. Did he really mean "anytime" or did he mean “hurry up before Cathy gets back on Friday from visiting her family in Florida.”
She grabbed her photo album from on top of the dresser and flopped onto the bed. As she flipped through the pictures, a familiar realization reemerged. When she was a child, her father constantly smiled and his eyes twinkled. When her teachers pulled Margaret out of the honors classes, the twinkle disappeared. When she was early in high school and quit band and began complaining about going to church every Sunday, the smile disappeared. Her father practically scowled in the wedding pictures. She could feel his disappointment and confusion. Girls from Chicago were not supposed to settle for being housewives for guys in Hinkley.
Margaret wondered what her father's face looked like now.
She walked to the kitchen to finish cooking dinner. She glanced at George idly wearing pressing a groove spots into the channel up button on the remote.
Margaret hated the word "cock," but it amused George. How long had she been doing whatever it took to amuse George? She had enough trouble doing the same thing week in and week out the way George preferred. When George suggested that she take care of his friends on Thursday night, too, that had almost been too much. The thought of Daddy's "I told you so" when she would inevitably be forced to crawl back home was the only thing that kept her with George.
She had first learned to endure, and then to accept her situation. Some of the time she even enjoyed little Mikey's awkwardness and the teasing he received from the guys. But, two years was a long time to endure a husband's crazy demands, much less those of his friends.
"George, I am going into town tomorrow night to watch a movie." George was not listening. Margaret began thinking about which dress to wear, the red one that hugged her curves or the green one which plunged in the front. She seemed to remember Chuck staring at her butt when she walked away at the store. She decided on the one that hugged her curves.
Margaret walked in front of the TV. "The new bookcase looks nice. Thank you. You and your friends can just order pizza tomorrow when I go see a movie in town tomorrow. Also, I'm not calling it a cock anymore. From now on it is just a rooster."
Margaret set George's dinner plate on the TV tray and drifted off to bed thinking about her shoes and playful winks.
