Hand stuff.

There were two people in the dimly lit living room discussing something. A middle-aged man and his wife. It started with the wife pleading her husband about wanting to do it more often but he rejects her completely with a solemn shake of his head. Like how a doctor would push open the ER doors and signal the family of a victim that he didn’t make it. The wife gives him the puss-in-boots eyes, watery and glistening due to the reflection of light being emitted from their newly bought IKEA lamp. They had many disputes about the lamp. How it wouldn’t blend in with the furniture and the charcoal brown parquet floor. How it wasn’t a good enough of a deal. How it wasn’t stable enough. This was proven by a little boy who dashed through the food court with a cactus pot in his hand and one of its spines had a full on collision with the long steel neck of the lamp, causing it to tilt slightly and then letting gravity do the rest of the job. Thankfully for the wife, who dearly loved the avantgarde design of the lamp, it didn’t break. “I thought that shit was made in China!” mused the husband, who wished they could replace the lamp with another one he had seen and liked very much. But this afternoon, the lamp was accentuating the majesty of his wife’s eyes. After a pause, the wife interjected and stuttered for two seconds. Then, she let four words out of her mouth. The four words that would crush her heart upon hearing its reply. “Not even hand stuff?” she finally said. “No,” the husband said very coolly.

“But I spent so much money on my oyster diet.”

“I’m sorry honey, I can’t right now. You know why.”

The wife, feeling dejected, turned her body very slowly and headed toward the kitchen and started on dinner preparation. She grabbed the knife and started chopping the onions. She started to tear up because of the onions. Looking up, down and sideways while continually blinking her eyes, she tried to stop the stinging pain in her eyes but to not avail. The wife then went to the dry kitchen because the air conditioner was already turned on for quite a while and thought that the low temperature could soothe her eyes. Doing this crushed her heart even more as she saw the blue miniature ice box which contained 1kg of the oysters she bought from the wet market this freezing morning. She remembered the cold made her hands numb. Now, upon looking at the oysters, a pang of disappointment washed over her like waves at a beach taking away the sand from a person’s feet as it retreated back into the ocean. The sand resembles the hopes of the wife. Gone and out into the vast ocean where the size of a sand particle would be insignificant.

She shocks the husband who was at the moment watching the news of Edward Snowden on CNNUncensored by shouting..

“What the hell am I going to do with these oysters now!”

..and she covers her face with her palms spasmodically, like how the husband responded when the damn IKEA lamp didn’t break.

hand stuff

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