FICTION

VIRIDIANA FLASHBACK

Sabrina Black

A week is not that long a time.

That's what David was thinking as he walked, hands thrust deep into his overcoat pockets, through the off-white tunnel that led away from the departure gates. The older you get, the lesser the value of the fraction; when you're five, a year is a fifth of your life, but when you're twenty-six, like David, a year represents a mere one twenty- sixth of your existence. Compared to that, a week was nothing and Maggie would be back from Detroit in a week.

He crossed the vaulted concourse of the air terminal with his eyes looking down, watching the tips of his shoes as he walked along the white floor. Still it bothered him to be separated from his wife for any length of time. They were close and liked it that way, but there were these few and far between business trips that took her away from him and left lonely rides from airports, a suddenly very empty apartment and no one to talk to in bed. A pair of glass doors slid open and David walked out into the prematurely cold October evening. He walked to the car and drove home with the radio on too loud in the hope of spooking off the blue.

The apartment seemed huge and his footsteps on the uncarpeted sections of the floor sounded much louder to him than they could actually have been. Ditching his coat he went into the kitchen where he threw a TV dinner into the oven and hoped he'd feel more hungry when it was ready.

Leaving the kitchen David walked through the living room, past his desk on which stood a framed photograph of Maggie in the dress she

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