Black Short Stories : Ava

story

Well-Known Member
REGISTERED MEMBER
Jul 23, 2002
200
1
Brooklyn, NY
Occupation
Student of Life
Eng 102 7am
During English Class I wrote...


"start"

Ava



Her eyes burned as they slowly leaked lava like tears. She refused. She was utterly disgusted whenever she heard of women not knowing who the father of their child was. She felt an excruciating pain in her conscience. And now trapped she lie on her back in a bed of self-disgust trying to figure how she allowed herself to fall face first into this pit of carelessness. She was married. Her head was hurting. The shoes were on the other foot, the wrong foot, and she couldn’t stand the sight of herself.

Her name was Ava Stevenson, quite a respectable woman. A business professional. She was in her early thirties and already the mother of an absolutely beautiful son. Everyday she went to work, overtime--- She was tired. Mr. Stevenson was a pastor, she was the preacher’s wife---He was on call more than an emergency room doctor. Early mornings, late nights, a funeral Monday, a Christening Wednesday, a marriage Saturday, and out-of-town revival next week. Brother Johnson needs prayer, Little Ricky is in jail, Sister Taylor’s husband abused her…

They’d been married thirteen years. Life at first was bliss. But her job, her distant husband, her son’s needs, over worked, under paid. She was tired. And then he entered the picture. He was five years younger. He was perfectly chiseled and sculpted by a perfectionist. He’d been perusing her for quite some time now. She needed a break. They went out, saw the musical Dreamgirls. They ate dinner, they laughed, they walked, they talked, they shared, they kissed---

Her universe screamed NO! But her yearning body and soul became deaf ears. They kissed again. They became sensually acquainted. It ended, she went home. Mr. Stevenson came home early, he had roses in every corner of their home, he had champagne, he cooked dinner, he was trying. “Oh no….” She was flooded with guilt. He held her, kissed her, caressed her, made matrimonial love to her.

It’s morning three days later, not only did she cheat, she did so unprotected at a dangerous time of the month. Her eyes burned as they slowly leaked lava like tears. She refused. She was utterly disgusted whenever she heard of other woman not knowing who the father of their child was. Her hands locked as she clutched the pillows. She had wounded a marriage even if only she knew. “An abortion maybe? Even her veins hurt, her vision was a blur. She didn’t plan this. She didn’t mean it. But he was always away. She was tired. He rarely showed affection anymore. She was overworked. What was she supposed to do? How was she supposed to feel? She understood. The tables had turned and she now sat at the head, without passing judgment on other’s lifestyle life. There was nothing stylish about it, but it was life, and things happen. She understood.

(c)2000

"end"
 

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