Sisohpromatem (standard:other, 2095 words)
Author: Reid Laurence	Added: Jan 09 2007	Views/Reads: 3224/2203	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Suddenly, a frightening future becomes all too clear as a man who expects another drab working day gets the surprise of his life.

Getting out of bed is always the toughest part of the morning for me, so
before I turned over to leave the soft, warm confines I spent the night 
in, I thought to myself how nice it would be to have a little 
comforting breakfast before greeting the day and turned in the opposite 
direction to put the idea to my wife. “Honey lamb,” I asked, as I 
gently patted that part of her body closest to me - which at the time, 
appeared to be one of her blanketed legs. “I sure could use a couple of 
eggs an toast. Whaddaya say? Can we strike a deal here?” 

“You got two hands,” came her reply. 

“But sugar lips, I've gotta get ready. I just don't have the time.” 

“Eat some cereal.” 

“Is that your final answer?” I replied, hoping that one final plea might
make her see the light. 

“Go away... I'm sleeping,” she said without looking up. 

“Very well then,” I remarked. “I can see that I'm on my own here,” I
added, as I found the floor with my feet and walked to the bathroom 
mirror for a quick shave and to comb what little hair I had left. “I 
thought marriage was a team effort Mary. You're letting the team down, 
can't you see that?” But it was too late to lodge any last minute 
complaint, for my better half had already fallen back to sleep and 
rested peacefully in the bed I'd only moments before left, looking as 
angelic and peaceful as the day we were wed. 

Oh well, I thought to myself. I'll treat myself to something hot for
lunch and turned on an overhead light as I finished brushing my teeth 
but as the light came on and I gazed back at myself in the mirror, I 
couldn't help but notice that the passing years hadn't been unkind to 
me at all. In fact, I thought, I'd never looked better and as I reached 
in my closet for the usual uniform of white shirt and dark pants I 
regularly donned, I wondered if my lovely wife would be so kind as to 
help me tie a neater then usual knot in the colorful tie I'd selected 
to offset the otherwise drab, everyday clothing I was subtly forced to 
wear. “You-who,” I whispered, not wanting to startle her awake from her 
beauty sleep. “Think you can help me out with my tie here, I'm just 
about ready ta hit the road?” 

“Boy, you don't give up do you,” she answered, removing the top pillow
she used to cover her head to block out any unwanted sound or light. 
“Okay... I guess. Let's see now,” she muttered, sitting up on the edge 
of the bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Which kind a knot ya 
want? The little thin one or the big fat one?” 

“Uhh... the little thin one,” I replied. And kneeling over to make the
tie easier for her to reach, I found myself thinking how nice it was to 
have someone who cared about me in my corner, helping me out, and now, 
as at other times, literally taking up the slack in something which 
needed her kind and devoted attention. But as I stood there, bent at 
the waist, watching her sleepy eyes slowly opening, I couldn't help but 
wonder why her expression had suddenly changed so from the harmony of 
rest, to the unrest of fear and disgust. “What's wrong my dove?” I 
questioned. “You look like you've seen a ghost. Did you have a bad 
dream?” But all the answer she could muster was the most shrill and 
terrifying scream I'd ever heard and as she sat frozen with the dread 
of a real-to-life horror scene, I did my best to try to calm her so as 
not to wake our two sleeping children. “Easy Mary. Calm down, please. 
What did I do? Is the tie that bad? I can always pick out another one. 
Hey, I'm flexible, you know me.” But even as I spoke these last words, 
she'd jumped back into bed, covered herself completely and pulled the 
blankets up over her head, leaving no part of her body whatsoever 
exposed to the naked eye. “Does that mean I'm on my own with my tie 
too?” I asked. “If ya hate it that much, why don'tcha come out an help 
me pick out something else. You can always hit the hay again.” 

“G-g-go away! You're not my husband! What'did you do with my husband!?”
was all she said, and finished up by adding one more, last, “go away!” 

Shocked, I went back to the mirror to see if I could find out why or
what could have happened to have caused such a strange and sudden 
reaction in her, but as I carefully searched my reflected image, I 


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