"Junebug" by Kavya Kamath
It’s the final countdown b l og post ! To round out this year of creative writing, here's one last short story! Junebug Unfamiliar perfume on his collar, disheveled hair when he walked in the door, even on days when it wasn’t windy, late nights in the ward; I knew the symptoms, the signs. I’d even venture to say they were far too familiar for such a picket-fence, house-in-the-suburbs type of couple like ourselves. Sometimes I wondered if I was the cause of some of them; I knew I was a failure of a housewife. But I didn’t dwell on that thought too long; my phone chimed with a text, and it was well-enough for a distraction. I typed out a response, the name of my recipient had fallen from my lips far too many times, but I didn’t dwell on that either. Michael would be home soon, a lovely casserole was waiting in the oven for both of us, and it was almost ready. I plodded over to the kitchen, admiring the array of photos lining the walls on my way ther...