A story about Mina

Mina
Painting by Arna Baartz @ http://www.artofkundalini.com

Mina placed the last piece of cutlery on the table. It was part of an antique silverware set her grandmother left to her when she passed. Mina knew her grandmother would be delighted to see her using the set for a dinner party.

She looked at the clock, it was nearly seven and her guests weren’t here yet, her husband hadn’t returned home either and he finished work at five. This wasn’t the first time he had done this and he never had a real excuse for why not.

Mina didn’t mind, she didn’t love him enough to mind, she wasn’t sure if she ever loved him at all. She supposed she only really loved him once because he was interesting and unusual and would do things which surprised her, once he woke before dawn to climb a hill and take a photo of the sunrise for her so she wouldn’t have to wake up early to see it.

It was a beautiful photo but it was nothing now. Mina thought he was out there in the city with all the beautiful girls in the world, this would suit her just fine because then at least he would be interesting again. She imagined him, with his tailored suit and beautiful eyes buying a drink for a younger prettier and fun version of her.

She was surprised at how jealous she was; doesn’t he know that he can take me out and buy me a drink? If he would just tell me something interesting I would be interested. Since when did it become a wife’s duty to act interested in every boring thing her partner says?

Mina returned to the living room and picked up the phone to call her husband but there was no answer and she didn’t leave a message.

She collected his place from the table, Mina refused to be embarrassed by her husband again and would not satisfy her guests (who are ruthless gossips) with an unsatisfactory answer. Mina would lie and say he was out of town because if she could help it, he will be by the end of the night.

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