Short Story: Galactic Confessionary

Welcome to Galactic Confessionary – where for a small fee you can unload all your secrets, judgment not included in the price.

maxresdefault2-696x392Magnus read the sign on the door with ambivalence, he didn’t know what he was doing, he hated places like this, but then who else could he talk to about something this…he searched for the right word – delicate. Yes the situation was delicate. On his home planet of Ganzar, he would be detained for the knowledge he held, but here on Hoxcer, a planet that courted it lawlessness he was fine. He could share this secret that had been haunting him for weeks and could very well haunt him forever.

Magnus stepped into the booth.

“Welcome,” an appealing feminine sounding voice said in the universal language, “please feel free to begin whenever you are ready, you have purchased thirty minutes, it starts now.”

Magnus nodded, even though he knew she couldn’t see.

He took a deep breath and nothing came out, he was a little surprised to find himself nervous, he knew that the Galactic confessionary was played on the radio waves, and despite his disguise and paying in jewels that were untraceable he hesitated.

“Don’t worry,” the voice said softly, “there is no judgment here but the one you pay for.” It was said almost kindly that he almost believed her.

“Sure.” Magnus said slowly.

Then as if suddenly made conscious of the time he began speaking.

“My wife, my ex,” he shook his head, “she’s not my ex she’s my late wife, my late wife.” He took a deep breath.

“My wife was having an affair, I suspected, strongly suspected, so I had her followed, nothing, I put bugs around the house, still nothing, I took leave from work, and I still couldn’t catch her, she was good, very careful.” He said with a small smile, even in death he was still drawn to her ingenuity and cunning.

“Two solid weeks and nothing. I had to go back to work, going half-crazy thinking there was something wrong with me, I was too paranoid, too mistrusting but I’m a –” he stopped mid-sentence, almost revealing what plane he was from, he took a deep breath, “basically, my instincts are never wrong.”

“Never?” The voice said in surprise.

Magnus started at the voice, so altered from the cool indifference she had previously spoken with before.

“Never.” Magnus said with confidence, and he waited a moment trying to edge closer to the partition to see the face that belonged to the voice, but a kind of haze had been put on her so she seemed to shift and move.

“So, as I was saying, my instincts are never wrong, I knew she was cheating I just didn’t know how. Last week, I was on my way to a friend in another galaxy but I’d forgotten my compass, I went back, and I witnessed her murder. Or rather her death. The distinction is very important because on my home planet; murder is punishable by murder the only exceptions are proven cases of self-defence, sanctioned revenge and proven cases of genuine accidents.” Magnus paused.

“Her lover, a Santarian, a true teleporter, hence why I never caught her, is to be murdered for her death, because he was found with her. He pleads innocent, no one believes him because no one was there, except me. I saw the whole thing, and he is right, it was an accident. She tripped and fell he didn’t push her. And a better man than me would come forward as a witness.”

“But you’re not a better man.” The voice said.

“No judgment.” He said calmly.

“Sorry, do go on.”

Magnus gave her a look.

“The Earthlings call it karma, who am I to get in the way of it.”

“If it was truly karmic justice, then you would not have witnessed it, providing him with a means to escape his sentence of certain death.” The voice said gently.

“Well you’re just full of judgment aren’t you?” Magnus said with a small smile.

“My apologies, if you want I can charge you extra.” It was said coolly, but Magnus could almost detect a smile.

“Then tell me what to do.”

“I don’t need to because you already know.”

Magnus nodded and made to leave, just as she whispered.

“Goodbye, Ganzarian.” She paused and switched to Gandour. “For a race that is thought of as the proudest in the galaxy you seem almost decent.”

“Coming from you, who I suspect is an Angel or at least a half-breed; that might be the nicest compliment I’ve ever had.” Magnus said before he walked out.

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Short Story: My Husband, his Mistress and I THE END

My Husband his Mistress and I pic

It’s been almost a month since my Husband’s weekend break with his mistress.

What he says still troubles me and I want to confront him about it, but at the same time I’m stuck. His affair is like a drug and I’m addicted. I like watching him come up with new and inventive reasons as to why he’s coming home lane. I love putting on my trench coat; yeah I went out to buy one, to follow him around. I’ve even had my car windows tinted. It’s all very cloak and dagger. I’m getting bolder with the hints I’m dropping him. I think he’s beginning to suspect I know something is going on. But I can’t stop and why should I stop when he can’t either?

“Hey my darling?” I say when my Husband walks through the door.

He gives me, what I can now recognise as a tight smile. I can’t believe I didn’t realise until he mentioned it to his mistress.

I watch him carefully as he goes over to the sink to wash his hands. He sets his briefcase on the table, takes his coat off, hangs it up on the fifth hook, checks the time then begins to wash his hands.

Something’s never change.

I follow him into the bedroom.

“What’s the matter?” He says in alarm.

I’m deviating from our usual routine; we normally have a ten minute conversation about our day before we eat dinner.

“Nothing, I’ve just missed you that’s all.” I say honestly.

“Vivian we can talk at the dinner table.” He says.

I sigh and walk to the door. I hesitate as I watch him meticulously fold the clothes he is taking off.

“You don’t like it when I say darling do you?” I say, unable to keep quiet about it any longer.

I see the alarm flash across his features before he is able to cover it up.

“Wha-what makes you say that?” He stammers.

I chuckle internally before I walk back into the room.

“But you don’t do you?” I press.

Marcus shakes his head very slowly an intense look on his.

“Then I’ll stop saying it. I’m also going to stop attending those pretensions lunches that the partners at your law firms wives like to throw, I’ll only go to the big events to help you.” I add, whiles I’m on a roll I might as well get it all out in the open.

Marcus is staring at me open mouthed.

“Thank you Vivian,” he says after a long moment.

“I just wanted to get that out there,” I say with a shrug before walking back to the kitchen.

I’m in the kitchen mulling over my victory when Marcus comes in.

‘O no!’ I feel myself panicking at the look on his face.

“I love you Vivian,” he says staring at me.

I relax.

“I love you too.”

“I didn’t realise you found the lunches so boring,”

“I would do anything for you.” I say firmly. “Even say darling, despite how much I hate that word.” I force a laugh trying to make light of the situation.

I can feel him starting to crack.

“Why didn’t you say anything Vivian?” He paces around the room in agitation, “all this time I thought, but…” He trails off.

‘O God O no,’ I think frantically, I’ve pushed him too far, I thought the sly hints I was always dropping would do it, but my honesty finally brought out his lie.

My Husband, his Mistress and I part 15

My Husband his Mistress and I pic

Michaela comes out of the front door.

“What’s wrong?” She asks, putting her arms around his waist from behind.

“Nothing,” He says on a deep sigh.

“Come one tell,” She coaxes kissing his neck softly.

His spine straightens. “I don’t like talking about her with you,”

I sit up straight in my own chair at the tone he just used to say; ‘her’.

“Marcus come on, we both know what this is, I’m not trying to replace her so you can just tell me.” Michaela says gently rubbing her chin on his shoulder.

“I just hate it when she uses that tone with me, it’s so fake and I can’t understand why she does it. I’d leave her if I didn’t love her so much. All the pretence drives me crazy.” He says in a rush.

I feel like I’ve been slapped.

“Wow,” Is all his mistress can say.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to unload; all this isn’t fair to you.”

“Hunny please, you’re cute but I’m trying not buying.” She says coming to stand in front of him.

He smiles but it’s a sad one.

“Come on, let’s no and eat that famous fish pie the mangers wife keeps raging about then we can work it off, have to keep this figure in check.” Michaela says planting a good solid kiss on my husband.

Marcus chuckles and I’m happy in a vindictive way that it doesn’t sound as deep as the one he gave me which makes me pause. Am I jealous of Michaela? How can Marcus think I don’t love him, I only behave the way he wants me to.

Short Story: My Husband, his Mistress and I part 14

My Husband his Mistress and I pic

I debate what to do, I can hardly sleep in the Yaris, but I don’t want to draw attention to myself. Just as I’ve finally decided to go and check-in Marcus walks back outside on his phone.

I hear my own phone ring and hastily answer it.

“Hey, Viv, how’s Yasmin?” He says, looking tense.

“O hi Marcus,” I whisper, “everyone is fine.”

“Why are you whispering?” He says.

“O you know the kids are sleeping?”

“At seven in the evening, don’t tell me you spiked the drinks again.” He says laughing.

I watch him laugh and he looks so carefree, so unlike how he is at home with me.

“That happened one time, and it can’t be proven in court.” I defend.

He laughs harder and I feel myself start to smile at his genuine amusement.

“Anyway erm,” his humour leaves and I see him shifting from one foot to the other, “very busy here, still working.”

“O yeah, well work hard.” I say. “I should let you get back to it, see you later my darling,”

But for some reason he tenses and a look of annoyance flashes across his features.

“O Okay, say hi to my favourite two terrors,”

“Will do, bye,” I say and click the phone off before he can respond.

I watch him carefully this is the fourth time I’ve noticed that he has tensed when I’ve said; ‘darling’, which is strange since he started the trend. He just stares at the phone in his hand for a few moments.

My Husband, his Mistress and I part 11

My Husband his Mistress and I pic

I wait an hour before I drive to his work place.

I find out a few things about his Mistress also known as Michaela, originally form Columbia and is a certified paralegal. Amazing what a few placed calls will do.

Out with my trustee binoculars again.

Nothing happens in the morning.

Nothing happens in the afternoon.

By the early evening I’m wondering if I didn’t just make the whole thing up in my head. When my husband starts packing away for the evening I’m almost convinced that the whole thing was a vivid hallucination brought on by way too much day time TV.

Marcus switches his light off and I start my engine vaguely wondering what I’m going to tell him about dinner not being ready on time.

Michaela walks into his office – all killer curves and high heels. I roll my eyes but inside I’m excited.

She walks forward and says something to him – he shakes his head. I make a mental note to buy some spy gear from eBay. Because yeah.

They have a back and forth with him shaking his head the entire time. He walks away and I make a frustrated sound in the back of my throat – but then he puts his hand on her arm and a look passes between them before he turns and walks out.

My Husband, his Mistress and I part 7

My Husband his Mistress and I pic

It’s John, one of the older partners; he’s also unsteady on his feet, but not as unsteady as my husband or the woman. I glance back and forth, wondering what will happen; I tense, biting my lip in anticipation. The pair start as John bangs on the door. The woman dashes under the table and I suppress a babble of laughter at her poor choice. My husband does an even poorer job of fixing his clothes. What have they been drinking I wonder, it must be that scotch Parker keeps in his office. I’ve tried a sip and it kept me buzzing for the whole day, it says forty years on the bottle, but I’m pretty sure that scotch has been around since scotch was invented. John talks to my husband and I watch the woman; she looks so afraid and I actually start laughing. My husband makes the mistake of glancing at the desk a few times, but John is clearly too far gone to notice. But not far gone enough to tell my husband that I called, because the next thing I know, my phone is bleeping, I pick up immediately, eager to know what he will say.

“Vivian?” My husband slurs, walking into another room with John, and throwing a hand out to steady himself.

“Jesus Marc, where are you? I’ve been worried sick! I almost called the police.” I say adding a touch of hysteria to my voice, as I try and push down the laughter that seems to be bubbling up in me.

“I’m so sorry, I was…I was drinking, yes I was drinking. I apologize, sorry, I’m really sorry…”
O no! He can’t tell me, not, certainly not over the phone!

“Just come home, safely please!” I beg, trying to sound desperate, whiles keeping an eye on the woman who is still hiding under the table, I briefly wonder if she’ll stay there all night.

“Of course, of course, I’m leaving, and I’m sorry Viv.” He says.

My Husband, his Mistress and I part 4

My Husband his Mistress and I pic

‘My videos’, he used to be so supportive, I’m a YouTuber, I show people the best way to reupholster their furniture, I’m kind of a big deal, I make almost as much money as my husband and that’s saying something because he’s the youngest partner at the firm.

I shut the door and I’m alone in the house, the lovely huge house in the nice neighborhood; West Hampstead we’re rich blah blah, don’t get me wrong I’m grateful to be living the dream, we weren’t always rich so it’s not like I’ve lived with a silver spoon. But somehow I’m living this life, I organise luncheons with some of the wives of the husbands’ at the firm, as though that’s all I’m good for, organising charity events events so these people can feel good about buying diamond encrusted shower heads.

I set to work, I have a room for editing and shooting my videos, it takes all day and by the time I realise it’s ten at night. I go into the kitchen and prepare a light late dinner. A chicken salad with 75ml of water, because yeah, that’s what he likes when he’s working late or just coming back from a function. Its ten thirty and I set the table, I go and wash my hands, I don’t bother with make-up anymore except when I shoot my videos or leave the house, my husband wouldn’t notice or even care. Its ten forty five and I look up confused, I didn’t hear his car. I feel myself panicking and I switch on the TV to check the news, it’s ten forty five, nothing bad has happened in this part of world anyway. When it hits ten forty six I’m in full panic mode and I‘m annoyed at myself for feeling this way, but he’s just that good with time, when he’s seconds late he calls, for seconds! It’s ten fifty and I’m pacing our driveway.