One, two, three...

 

Milk Wood

One, two, three, something… The numbers got jumbled in his head. He wanted to call her. He never understood why she had left. He was a caring husband. He yelled at her sometimes, true, but it was just to toughen her up. He always bought her flowers afterwards. The ungrateful would make a face and walk away. Two, three, something... No. He still loved her. But she abandoned him when he needed her the most. That punch was... Well, but she talked back. Three, one... He kept trying to remember it, not knowing that she had long changed her number.

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