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October 2018, vol 14 no 3

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Marilyn Fleming

The Plan

It was during the hell years of our marriage when I thought we couldn’t possibly survive, that I began to prepare for our eventual split. In the beginning it was just a little cash here and there pilfered from our accounts. I kept it up over a long period of time. I don’t even want to admit how long it was. But always in the back of my mind, I thought that soon, after this, after that, after our son leaves home, after that next dream vacation, after, after, after, then I’d leave him.

The years have slipped by. Our little boy is now a man. The marriage is ok. There are no more battles, no more wars. We have settled into each other. We have grown up. However, there is still this nagging conscience of mine as to what to do with the stash.

It is tradition to go out to lunch together on his birthday, just mother and son. I'll wait until the birthday cake is served.

broken branches
in the eagle’s nest
wind gusts
back to back
we prop each other up