A simple premise; a bold promise To present one story per day,
every day—providing exceptional authors with exposure
and avid readers with first-rate fiction.

Today's Story by Trumpet Specks

He often makes bad choices though he'll never admit to it.

The Uncoupling

The beautiful Camille’s a thief. Tonight she stole an unattended steak off a plate at Chez Panisse. She popped it up into the arm of her sweater and took it to the ladys room where squatting in a stall, she scarfed it down . While she was eating, her husband Mac, ordered wine. Mac’s very serious about wine but his knowledge on the subject is spotty. He often makes bad choices though he’ll never admit to it.

Upon her arrival back at the table, Mac says:  “Honey, you look marvelous, never more beautiful. Something’s different about you tonight, you’re positively glowing. By the way, I ordered a light chardonay.”

Camille blushes, then takes Mac’s hand, puts it over her heart and says “Mac, I have a confession to make.” She takes a moment to play with her earring, she waffles and blurts, “Mac, oh Mac, there’s no point. Mac, I’m sorry but we’re through, it’s over.”

Mac abruptly removes his hand from Camille’s heart and shifts back in his chair. He says, “But I Iove you” then gently, he begins to cry. As the first tear rolls down his cheek, the waiter arrives with the wine, and pours out a glass for Camille, and then one for Mac. Mac raises his watery eyes to the waiter and gives him a weak smile and slight nod. The waiter pats Mac on the shoulder and makes a faint bow, then leaves. Mac thinks the waiter has seen this all before. Probably, just another ordinary night on the job.

Deke, the waiter goes back to the kitchen and tells the cook what happened at Mac’s table. The cook herself recently divorced, begins to weep. So much water comes out of her eyes that she can’t see clearly. Her hand which is holding a knife, seems to lose consistent form, growing bigger then smaller. Eventually, she cuts her finger and screams “Christ”. She puts her finger to her mouth and sucks, but there is too much blood coming, she can’t drink it all.

Deke wraps her finger in a rag, and wipes her tears with his cuff, whispering “It’s ok, it’s going to be ok” The cook’s head becomes unbearably heavy, it can’t be held up any longer so it’s flopped upon the chest of Deke. The arms thrown round Dekes waist for support. With all the body contact the cook has smeared finger blood onto the back of Deke’s uniform.

A bell rings warning of food to be brought to the dining room. Deke gingerly sets the cook down on a foot stool, pats her cheek and says “I’ll be right back, you just wait right here”. He grabs the two plates and exists the kitchen into the dining room. At table six he says “Duck”, Mac raises a finger in acknowledgement, so Deke places the Duck in front of Mac, who’s balling hard now. Next Deke says “Mock Duck” and with tightly veiled hostility he slides the other plate in front of Camille. Next, Deke lifts the wine bottle off the table says “wine” and Mac nods pushing his glass closer to be filled. Before Deke can say “wine” again, Camille shoots her hand covering her glass and with a tight shake to her head, she silently mouths no.

Deke out of sheer habit says “enjoy your meal”. He immediately feels foolish, impotent, and curses his insensitivity. With no more reason to stay at the table, he leaves. Mac and Camille both see the blood on Dekes back. Mac gasps and his eyes widen, Camille says “Don’t look Mac, it has nothing to do with us.”


Having experience with unrequited love, it makes sense that Trumpet writes what he knows. Muddling over memories, harvesting a sigh or cry is something, which is better than nothing.


To comment on this story, visit Fiction365’s Facebook page