Chapter 3 - The Yellow Interruption
From the hallway, a soft, rhythmic slapping sound broke the silence.
Slap. Drag.
Slap. Drag.
A baby, no older than twelve months, crested the threshold of the living room.
He was dressed in bright, heavy-duty yellow overalls.
The brass buttons on the straps clinked softly against the floorboards as he moved.
He crawled right past the shattered ceramic pieces of the coffee mug.
He dragged his right knee straight through the edge of the damp, stained rug.
He stopped directly between the kneeling man and the woman plastered to the wall.
The baby patted the bare, dusty oak floorboards with a small, dimpled hand.
He looked up at the man.
The man’s grey Henley was clinging to his chest.
The baby looked at the woman.
Her light blue blouse was rapidly rising and falling.
"Spill," the baby announced to the room.
He pointed a wet, coffee-stained finger at the floor.
"Daddy made a big spill."
The man didn't look at the baby.
His eyes were locked on a faint, rectangular seam carved into the oak boards directly in front of his knees.
It was a seam that didn't match the natural lines of the wood.
The woman pushed herself off the wall.
Her beige cardigan fell completely off her shoulder, landing in a heap on the floor.
She took one frantic, unbalanced step toward the man.
Her hand reached out, fingers hooking into the fabric of his grey sleeve.
"Don't."
May you like
Her voice was dry, cracking on the single syllable.
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