by Kyle Curcio
More than half of snail marriages end in divorce...
"Again?! Oh. My. God! We don't have time for this, Mildred."
The two snails stopped at the side of the road and started slugging it out.
"Would you relax, Stan? I just have to use the restroom! We've been traveling for hours."
"...And we've barely gotten anywhere." Stanley was exasperated. "At this rate, we'll never get to California!"
He'd taken the job marketing for a fast food chain on the Left Coast because he felt like he never got out of the house and the bigger the change, the better.
"Oh. My. God," Mildred said mockingly. "Don't get so salty. I'm going to run in and run out. It'll be like two hours."
Stanley fired back, "You know what? I think you're doing this on purpose. You never supported this move!"
"Well you did kind of spring it on me! And now that I look back, you never considered me much at all. Why do I put up with it?"
She started for the grassy shoulder.
"Well I guess you're a slow learner!" he called after her.
Mildred turned and hollered back.
"Lesson LEARNED. I might not come back, Stanley! Maybe I'll leave."
He scoffed. "That'll take all week!"
"Be careful, Stanley Shellby! I'll take the house, and you know what a homeless snail is?"
"A SLUG, you jerk!"
She was gone a week before he moved on. Guess she finally made good. His trip took longer than he'd thought, of course, and that job offer had expired. He'd found his way to Cali with just his house on his back.
At least he wasn't a slug.