Zest Lit Issue 2, October 2013 | Page 21

rekindle what had been lost between them. Life had become nothing more than a stale loaf of bread, covered in dried-up mold.

And then the doorbell rang. Just what they needed: an unexpected visitor.

‘Are you going to get it?’ Julia demanded from upstairs. He was hoping to just ignore it until the person went away.

‘I don’t know who it is,’ Jimmy said, hoping the uninvited guest would simply disappear.

The doorbell rang again.

‘Get it!’ Julia demanded.

‘It’s probably Jehovah’s Witnesses again,’ Jimmy said.

‘Just tell them we’re not interested.’

As he always did, Jimmy gave in. Lately, he started giving in less so. However, his resistance only worsened their condition. With their inevitable end in sight, he had to start looking out for himself since he was all that he was likely to end up with. Of course, if he had tried to nip this problem in the bud from the start, perhaps things would have been different. But now, it was too late.

Jimmy looked out the front window and noticed an old, rusted-out Econoline van parked in the driveway with a decal that simply read: ‘Mr. Sucks.’ That about sums it up, Jimmy thought to himself.

He headed to the door and opened it, to reveal a short, sad-looking mustachioed man of presumably eastern European descent. He could have been anywhere from his late fifties to early seventies, wearing tight brown dress pants and a yellowed, short-sleeved dress shirt with a hint of body odor. In his hand was a hard carrying case of some sort. He appeared like a salesman who had just somehow