Can you Hear Me?

Although he never received a professional diagnosis, Phyllis assumed George suffered hearing problems. She harped at him to seek medical attention for this one issue, of which, he denied and sometimes vehemently argued, “It’s not necessary. I hear just fine.”

The constant, “Huh?” or “What?” followed by everything she said grated on her last nerve, so much she found ways to amuse herself. Instead of snapping her fingers in front of his face to get eye contact, she developed flip stories. Just nonsense comments that she was going to kill when he went to sleep. Technically, she felt inclined to follow-up on some of these comments, especially after the huh-what. Several times she told him she was divorcing him, and other times made up startling bad news.

Today, during dinner, George asked his wife, “How was your day?”

While George ate his meatloaf and mashed potatoes, Phyllis confessed her love for the guy at Menard’s who is always so helpful. “He is such a sweetheart. We’ve been meeting at our love nest every Thursday for the past year. I thought you should know.”

Phyllis thought she was being crafty for telling the truth this time. She even added, “You have the right to remain silent,” and smirked.

The silence was deafening, except for the chewing sounds coming from Phyllis. “Hm…no what this time,” she muttered with distain.

“I heard you perfectly. I just got a hearing-aid today.”

“Huh?”

Word Count: 300