“Forgive me father, for I have sinned. It has been 3 months since my last confession…My neighbor is a busy woman, she does not draw her bedroom curtains at night and neither does her husband draw them during the day, because I like the view of my house from their bedroom.

While the indentation Tuesday left on the bed was still warm, the strangest thought came to me. I should call and check on my ‘hubby’. Something I never thought to do whenever I was with Tuesday! After the customary glowing critiques, I left to buy some airtime and call my ‘hubby’. 8 long rings later, I wrote a sweet message enquiring what my dearest ‘hubby’ would like for dinner. He replied an hour later apologizing for not answering the call and said he would come home with my favorite pizza.

At 7:30pm sharp came the two hoots and the sound of the metal gate grazing the cemented driveway, leaving me just enough time to sit on his favorite armchair with a glossy gossip magazine. “Hey beautiful…” he said with the smile that made me say I do. With his arms around my waist, “… how was your day wifey?” Out came the list of household chores I did, the scandalous rumor going around about the lady in house number 13 and the latest intrigues of Hollywood’s who’s who. “Will you need a lift?” Hubby asked. “No sweetie, I’ll grab cab”, I said or rather, I lied.

It haunts my conscience that I lied to him. Wednesday is a little more special than Tuesday because he only comes around once a month and never without some designer perfume. I may be a housewife but that is no excuse to go about smelling like perfumed detergent. He likes a spicy dish so it was the heels and a negligee underneath a power suit. I waited near the taxi stand and heaviness fell on me. I wanted so desperately to hail a cab, but just then Wednesday arrived in a debonair suit. Heaves, sweats and showers later we left his house en route to mine. I told him to let me take a cab, but Wednesday is a fine gentleman who would not let a lady go home alone on his watch. At 6pm sharp I was at my door with Chanel number 5 and a guilty conscience.

I sat in the darkness of my room in a terrible depression. Liar, Liar, Liar screamed a voice in my head. I knew the sound of those two hoots and metal gate grazing the cemented driveway would drive me to hysterical extremes and so I came here to seek absolution for my lying tongue. “

A fictional piece by Doppelganger.

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