
Sharon took the kids and the furniture, left Brian with a fourteen-year-old German Shepherd named Hector. I wanna say, hey, the place looks great, but I can’t bullshit Brian. “Hey,” I say. Brian takes a sip of his Beck’s Dark and waits for the sympathy cliché. “At least you get to keep Hector.” Brian laughs a little. I look around and try to find something else positive to point out. “And…”
“I bought a fish,” Brian says. There’s a fishbowl where the TV used to be. “Named it Sharon,” he says, and I spit beer all over my shirt.
***
Title by: Gerald Thomas Arthur Perry
Story by: Nick
Illustration by: Janie Woodbridge
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