Lloyd

He juggles the words in his mouth like marbles, keeping his breathing fair, focusing on one point of the hardwood like he used to as a boy when he was caught for getting into mischief. Keys jingle in the lock and the front door comes open. She walks through the front room without turning on the light, steps into the kitchen and puts the groceries on the counter. She notices him, flips the light switch and stands to look at him. His mind goes quiet when she speaks his name.

"Lloyd?"

He looks up, takes two quick paces to her and cups her face in his hands. She is taken aback -- he has never touched her before, not ever lain a finger on her. Her breath catches and the words come to her mind before they are out of his mouth -- words like thunder to an infant left out in the storm, words she has dreaded but has known would pour over his lips -- his eyes have been giving him away.

"Dorothy, this isn't working out. I'm leaving you. I won't apologize because this isn't my fault. Good-bye."