No breakfast in bed.

Tonight, I had my first taste of married life, the impersonal way I reach my wife as she roams the city with her friends, judging who isn’t abiding by the sacred code of suburbia. We have to wait for “the kids to go to bed”, in this case our guests have to leave before we even consider approaching each other. And they do leave, they do depart as we smile and bid our goodnights, we smile not as good hosts, our notable happy disposition is due absolutely to the fact that we are at last left in our own privacy. We sit together on the sofa expecting something to kick in, but it seems that an effort will have to be made on our part, we were foolish to rely entirely on our own animal magnetism and “chemistry”. So the story goes, absurdly insisting on something that shouldn’t be insisted upon, but after setbacks and progress and rest and resuming to what ran through our minds the entire night we had to endure listening about Ruperts safari and how his suahili always comes out offensive we embraced each other to the sound of my man toy, my elegant ipod. A Tibetan sherpa, after having healed my strained ankle once said that “a man with an ipod isn’t the same as a man without an ipod”, I keep this timeless piece of knowledge present in me at all times, I was enlightened. Carrying on, we listened to our music only to realize there was an absence of matter in our bellies, I sweetly and lovingly attended to that matter as my darling spouse took a bath, in the company of her absent mind, nothing but the sound of water pouring itself upon her. I capably managed to prepare a complex dish of scrambled eggs. We ate as we traded trivial looks contemplating the routine that had become our life. As she closed up our house for the night it was my turn to listen to that hypnotizing sound that drew my worn out body into nirvana. Bed time was getting closer and closer, I made my way into our silent haven, and took my place beside her, we laid, we resigned, we slept. The next morning, five hours later, I woke up to a lonely bed, I had forgotten her early day but still I had made the assumption a kiss would’ve been delivered. She hadn’t left, an empty bed with a cooler atmosphere seemed more appealing, understood. She got ready and the kiss was indeed delivered.