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Maybe I wanted my husband to leave me. Maybe.

Deep down, I didn't mind at all his talking to my single friends. I put them together. And didn't watch them interact. I preferred to see the robins dance as they argued over worms.

Maybe, deep down, I wanted to go to sleep and not wake up. Maybe.

Deep down, the note he left on my pillow didn't bother me half as much as icy winters' chill.


There are no fussy robins this year. They've gone away to God knows where. Maybe they've stayed south to hear the crying of the cranes. Maybe.

And one last time, I say the lie - deep down inside my empty heart... that maybe I don't mind.

Story by:

Susan Miller

22 December 2013