Wild Eyes

She sat on the couch, legs crossed, sewing a patch in his jeans. She wished he’d be more careful. With every stitch, she hoped the patch would blend with the clothing, making the jeans just like home again. One of her earthy brown eyes was kept sharply on the door while the other watched the needle as it came dangerously close to her delicate skin.

He was out at the bar again, trying to drink away the loss of his job, throwing his liver in the box he walked out of the office with. He wondered if he’d ever be able to hold his head as high as he held it when he was younger. When did the ground begin requiring all of his attention? Maybe when falling became a bigger risk. His forest green eyes were more cautious these days. They never wanted to lose the pleasure of looking at her.

She finished the sewing. She looped the thread around with the needle to form a knot and she tugged tightly. Just one knot was too small. It didn’t hold the thread in place, so she began looping and looping until the knot was sufficient enough to bear the burden of his careless nature. As she began the last loop, the sound of a key in the door startled her, causing her unsteady hand to run the needle into her skin. She cursed a few times and sucked the blood from her finger.

The sound of keys dropping and being picked up led her to the front door knob. He was drunk on their doorstep. It was obvious. The way he stared at the keys like a foreign object gave it away. And the way he stared at her, she knew she’d be dealing with an animal tonight. It’s funny, he never let her have animals. “Never in the house!” he’d say, but little did he know, one was preying at his bones.

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