REMEMBERING
by Dave Clapper

Remember right after we stopped fucking for the sake of fucking and just before we started fucking for the sake of fucking, that period in between the fuckings for the sake of fucking when we were actually making love, when a caress meant something and getting each other off as quickly as possible wasn’t our primary goal, when it actually was more important to take a little time to catch up with each other after the chaos of the day, maybe make each other laugh a little bit, and farting was even okay because it released stress in a way besides making each other come, that time that lasted, I don’t know, maybe about three months, and things were pretty blissful for a while there, because we weren’t always thinking about unpaid bills or the fact that one of the kids might come barging into the room at any moment or how our parents probably never really will get along or the fact that we haven’t put anything away towards the kids’ college educations yet, and the stress of planning the wedding was over, or maybe it was before the engagement, was that it, no matter, it was within a year either side of our wedding day, and is it really any surprise that we can both remember our anniversary, but never how many years it’s been because sometimes it just feels like for-fucking-ever, but I’m getting off the topic now; I was talking about something else, and life was actually pretty damned good with both of us bringing home steady paychecks and nothing really important to spend them on so we could go out a lot, not that we could really go out now what with the kids and all, and wasn’t that great, that period when we savored every moment and we stayed in bed for hours... God, remember that?

© Dave Clapper 2004

Dave Clapper lives with his two sons in the Pacific Northwest. He's a web developer by trade and an editor by choice. He edits SmokeLong Quarterly and reprints of his published work can be found at untruecrimes.com.

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