Stories for The Bradbury

Famous

“You know, Kurt, I really wish I’d never met you.” I stood within punching distance of my almost ex-boyfriend.

"Honey, you don't mean that."

I fought to keep my sanity, to stop the demons from taking over and forcing me to murder this man.

"Kurt, you cheated on me. Don't you remember?"

He remained silent, a product of watching too many lawyer shows, I guessed, and turned away with slumped shoulders and clumsy feet down the hall toward our bedroom.

Or at least it used to be our bedroom. I doubted I'd be sharing that bed with him ever again. He'd be lucky if I stayed through the night in his cheap apartment.

"It wasn't like that. You're overreacting. You have no idea how hard it is to be famous." With that, he slammed the bedroom door, leaving me unsure whether to laugh or scream.

Famous? He thought he was famous? Puh-lease.

I grabbed my sweater and headed out. I could get my meager possessions later, when Kurt wasn’t being such a moron.

I’d barely made it five blocks when my phone buzzed, and I answered without looking at the screen.

“Debra, sweetie, I heard what happened. You should be more understanding of my Kurt. You know he has schizophrenia, don’t you?”

I couldn’t hold back the laughter anymore. The whole situation was insane…much like my boyfriend. “Yes, Ronnie, I know your son’s a schizo. Do you think I’m stupid enough to believe he’s a famous astronaut?”

“Yes, but it means he didn’t really cheat on you. I mean, not technically,” Ronnie stumbled out a reply.

“Last I checked, Ronnie, imaginary women don’t leave behind lipstick stains and dirty underpants, do they?”

With that, I slipped my phone into my pocket and headed off to enjoy a lovely Kurt-free life.