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Remote Control
Sara curled up on the end of the couch opposite her husband. The room was mostly dark,
awash dimly by the kaleidoscope colors of the television at the other side of the room.
Sara's husband sat low on the cushions, his butt close to the edge of the couch,
his legs thrown out far into the center of the room, his right hand drooped lifelessly
over the armrest at his end of the couch while the left held the TV remote control at
his crotch, held erect, pointing toward the TV.
Sara pulled her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. She rested her
head in the space between her knees.
Sara looked at the TV screen.
An old episode of Everybody Loves Raymond was on. She turned toward her husband.
He chuckled at a slapstick bit then brought his right hand up and rubbed the lengthening stubble on his chin.
"Rob?" Sara asked.
"Hmmm?" He answered letting the weight of his hand pull it back over the side of the couch.
"We always do this, sit here like this," she turned her gaze down to her feet and started flexing her toes.
"Like what?"
"Like this, in front of the TV every night after dinner."
Rob took in a deep breath and let it out, "do you want to talk about something?"
"No, no," she said. "I mean, yes, I do want to talk but not about anything special. I just want to talk."
Rob stretched out his arms above his head then let them fall back into their original positions with a grunt.
Sara reached back at her hair tied into a ponytail and pulled it over her shoulder.
She began running her fingers through it. "You know, we just watch TV all the time.
In the morning during breakfast, in the evenings after dinner and all day Sunday even
though you say there is usually nothing on."
"Okay, okay," Rob tapped the remote and TV went dead and room went dark.
Sara reached behind her and turned on a lamp sitting on an end table. She looked up
at Rob and forced a wide smile. Rob swung his head toward her and looked into her eyes with
an expression as lifeless as the TV.
Sara looked at him, thoughts of all the things she wanted to say and to talk about danced in her head.
She looked into his eyes, into the blank stare and suddenly felt naked. All of the thoughts in her
head began to dance wildly and spin out of control. His eyes began to burn into her and she felt
heat over her bare skin. She breathed in deeply but found she couldn't let it out.
It was as if his stare had burned a hole through her chest and burned out her lungs.
Rob's face suddenly twisted from nothing to a lazy smile followed by a chuckle.
"That was a funny commercial," he said turning back to the TV. The screen blinked to life and
Sara no longer felt naked and heat was gone. She reached behind her and turned off the light.
David Churchill
Email: David Churchill
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