thrice great hermes #85

thrice great hermes


by stanley lieber

the divorce had been sudden, a surprise, though perhaps it shouldn’t have been. violet had found herself unable to explain. anything, really. that was sufficient. the paperwork had been filed.

her husband (her ex-husband) had taken the boy, and much of the furniture. consequently violet spent a lot of her time sitting on the floor. she never quite got around to replacing the missing pieces.

her days off from work were filled with fewer interruptions. she caught up on a lot of sleep, but she found herself spending less and less time at home.

usually, she showered at work. dinner, too, so her fridge at home was most often empty. when the boy came over for his weekend visits he would complain that there was nothing to eat. she would sigh under her breath and ask him if he’d like to go out for dinner. when he said yes, she’d ask him if he’d also like to go see a movie. when he said yes, her evening, and her budget for the following week, was planned. it all cost a substantial amount of money, on her salary, but she would tell him to order whatever he wanted.

when violet wasn’t asleep she would read. clancy, brown, griffin, lustbader, had all given way to proust, isherwood, waugh, mishima, nin, colette. she worked her way through most of the public library. well, except for the romance novels...

at home, there were her subscriptions: the new york times; the smithsonian magazine; national geographic; the indiana historical society journal; air power journal; air force magazine; friends journal: the magazine of the air force museum foundation, inc.; the new york review of books; the london review of books; the claremont review of books (haha); the new yorker; retro gaming magazine; the uncanny x-men. and she wondered where all her money went.

twenty-four hours was a long shift. the twenty-second century had been a long century. but life itself seemed short. there was so little time to cram it all in. even with the visor to help.

violet sat on the floor, surrounded by newspapers and magazines.

it was all bullshit, and she hated it.