From Where I Stand
This day, on their twentieth wedding anniversary she felt not an ounce of love for him. Over the years, the fire that had fueled their exciting and passionate love affair had slowly burned out, leaving nothing but resentment.
As the wind chimes sang their mournful melody, Jessica tiptoed onto the verandah and gently brushed her husband’s shoulder.
“Happy Anniversary,” she whispered.
Absorbed in his own bleak emptiness, Steven reluctantly turned towards her and lightly kissed her cheek. Without the glint of a smile, he muttered, “Thanks,” and returned to his position by the railing.
Across the road, James looked up from his newspaper and waved. Jessica waved back.
From where she stood, the grass was definitely greener on the other side.