• We’re getting nowhere tonight.

    I take another sip from my coffee, as black as possible, and still not strong enough.

    It’s late.

    Very late.

    It’s almost time to get up, really.

    Taking a deep breath, I set the coffee down and roll over in the sheets.

    They’re moist with sweat.

    My sweat.

    Cold.

    I’m glad I don’t have anything to do tomorrow… Today? Yeah. I guess, technically, it’s already today. Saturday. My one day off.

    You’re already awake. Moving around. Restless. I whisper your name, you look at me for a split second before leaving.

    Suddenly.

    Where do you have to be? Is it already that late- early? I’m confused.

    The clock says it’s 4:47 in the morning. You don’t work on Saturdays… But you had on your nice clothes. The ones you only wear to work. So is it really a Saturday? Or is it Friday?

    I scream in frustration, and throw the covers back.

    The coffee is knocked over. It stains the already stained sheets, and the carpet.

    Scalding hot.

    I manage to catch you before you leave. I ask you what day it is. Saturday. I ask you where you are going. Work. I ask why you’re working on a Saturday. They need me. But it’s your day off. Just this once. But you promised… I’m sorry, honey.

    And that’s it. You’re gone.

    I drag myself back to the bed. I don’t bother with the covers as my face invades the pillow.

    Tears.

    Lukewarm.