Scissors

Samantha had always been impulsive.  It was not a great surprise when she abruptly stopped loving her husband one Sunday at 2:35 in the afternoon while sitting on a stool at her kitchen peninsula.

She allowed a pair of scissors to fall from her hand upon the startling realization she was no longer in love.  She had been using the scissors to snip recipes from a magazine.  The scissors clattered loudly against a plate.

Alerted by the clatter, her husband called out from the living room where he sat watching football:  “Are you okay in there?”

“I’m fine,” she answered.  “I have fallen out of love, that’s all.”

“Oh, I thought maybe you broke something.”

“No,” Samantha replied, “nothing like that.”

At 2:39 in the afternoon, Samantha picked up the scissors once again.  She could use them to extricate herself from her now loveless marriage.

-- Mitchell Hegman