When We Fell Apart

It was late hour, the wee periods when crickets croaked and frogs sang their lullaby that Imelda was perched to the window, staring blankly and was fade up dialing Rueben on the phone. He had gone out to party in the club as usual.

And she had been calling him. It had always been futile each time she called to remind him it was time to return home; it had never yielded fruit and most times he had yelled at her and hung up like thunder.

This was not the kind of marriage she expected. She returne