Julia stood at the closet’s door as if it were the portal out of here–this city, this house, this home. Him. In a way, it was. Next she knew, she was packing her clothes.

Predictably, Eric soon entered the room. He stood awkwardly between the doorway and the bed, watching her haphazardly shove ten years of marriage into a too-small suitcase. Say the right thing, Eric, she thought. If you could only say the right thing, we could stop this madness. We could save our marriage. We could be together again, you and me. We could be twenty again.

Instead, Eric put his hands in his pockets and shifted his weight to his left. “Well, then,” he took a breath. “What’s the plan, Stan?” he asked, cocking his head to the right.

“Oh God,” she fumed, whipping her head around, “I can’t believe I once thought you were a worthwhile human being!”

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About John D. Moore

Writer, cartoonist, filmmaker, and student of Japanese language, literature, and cinema at the University of Utah.

5 responses »

  1. Logan says:

    Indeed, those who (for whatever effect) use vocatives that do not apply in any way to the one addressed, are truly insufferable.

  2. I liked this story very well, but I think my favorite part has to be when Eric ‘predictably’ entered the room–what an ass!

  3. Redoubt says:

    That would be my reaction for sure. I also might attempt to punch him.

  4. Yarjka says:

    In my experience, “What’s the plan, Stan?” is something that shouldn’t even be said to someone who’s name is Stan. The phrase should really be deleted from the cultural consciousness, if at all possible.

  5. Logan says:

    Actually, I’d never heard the phrase before. And it’s really irritating me that I can’t find an explanation of the origin. Does everyone in the world know it but me?

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