Seven year Switch

 

Just a little taste…

Juggling the bags and her briefcase Sonja made her way from the car and fumbled her way into the house. She entered the kitchen and dumped everything on the counter. Kyle’s car wasn’t in the drive way so she knew she had a little time to prepare. Sonja went to their room and discarded her clothes before going into the bathroom a few feet away. Just as the shower reached her desired temperature a noise made her look over her shoulder.

 “Kyle?” she called out stepping under the water.

 A few moments later he appeared. “Hi honey,” he said cheerfully.

 The curtain moved and Sonja’s head appeared. “Hey sweetie. Happy anniversary.”

 Kyle caressed her wet face and kissed her soundly. “Happy anniversary to you. Do you want me to start putting things away while you finish your shower? I will just take mine when you’re done.”

 “Thank you baby. That would be great. Leave the meat in the sink and the veggies on the counter so I can cut them up.”

 He left her with a quick peck and she slipped back under the warm cascading liquid. Sonja stayed longer than usual welcoming the relaxing feeling the water left her with. Quickly she dried and slipped into the silky pajama set that she knew was his favorite and sprayed perfume down her back and across her chest before leaving the room. As she closed the door behind her she caught a glimpse of the clothes she tossed on to the bed. She changed course to retrieve them and walked to the laundry room instead and promptly tripped over Kyle’s gym bag as she entered.

 “Damn it!” she muttered as the clothes went into the air landing all over the floor. “He could have put the bag somewhere other than the middle of the floor so I don’t kill myself.” Sonja gathered her belongings and dumped them on top of the bag. “Dang, he didn’t even unload it this time,” she grunted dragging the bag closer to the baskets.

 She put her stuff in the designated hampers to be washed and unzipped Kyle’s bag to do the same.

 “Towel, shorts, tee shirt, sweat band, sweaty drawers…” She continued calling off each item tossing them over into the appropriate container. “Sock, sock, sock, tee shirt, geesh, how many weeks does he have in here?” she mumbled shaking her head. Her hand dug into the bag and suddenly stopped. “What the hell is this?”

 Hard…wide…smooth, no wait… rough…a buckle?

Read More at https://www.danalittlejohn.com/?page_id=352