{"id":4806,"date":"2016-06-27T08:00:04","date_gmt":"2016-06-27T12:00:04","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/?p=4806"},"modified":"2016-06-22T22:25:51","modified_gmt":"2016-06-23T02:25:51","slug":"traffic-3","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/2016\/06\/traffic-3\/","title":{"rendered":"Traffic #3"},"content":{"rendered":"

\u201cShonda, look!\u201d James exclaimed. Shonda was looking.  Looking right out the window. She was looking as far as she could see. If she could have, she would have looked her way right out of that car, right out of her marriage, right out of her life. Not life itself, let there be no mistake about that, but her life. The one with all the mistakes. The one where she was married to a shoe salesman.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cRemember those orange shoes. Those prison orange shoes. The one that I told the boss he should send back because no one would buy them.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Never one to miss the chance to correct him, she abruptly added, \u201cThe shoes you came running home to tell me about when someone bought them. The shoes that got you in a sour mood when I told you that you shouldn\u2019t cut down your boss. Especially when it comes to decisions that he makes about the business he\u2019s running.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Shonda added to the mental hash marks she had acquired against him. James 36- Shonda 4078. Poor James couldn\u2019t have even been right 50 times in 10 years of marriage. Not 5 times a year, not even every other month could he be right. Shonda had enjoyed it, particularly how every hash mark seemed to make him a bit shorter than he had been before.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOk, Shonda.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

He resolved to be silent. If he did not speak, she could not prove him wrong. Without that, she was nothing but a drain on the household economy. It would have been perfect if he could have pulled it off. You could tell that he couldn\u2019t by just looking at him. If he got shorter and shorter every time she cut him down, those missing inches found their way to his waist. The members of his hairline were abandoning ship one-by-one. One-by-one isn\u2019t too bad except when they are so anxious to leave that you have to wonder if they were taking numbers. The sweat stains on his shirt looked, even from a distance, like rings of frustration. No, this was not a man capable of orchestrating a silent treatment.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThere she is.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat are you saying now, James?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThere she is. The woman who bought the orange shoes. I just thought you might want to see her.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhy would I want to see one of those discount shoe store shoppers?\u201d She laughed as if she were somehow of a different caste than he. She laughed as if a discount shoe salesman\/ice truck driver\/midnight shift stocker wasn\u2019t the man working three jobs so that she didn\u2019t have to buy discount shoes. She laughed like she laughs when she beats him out of the driveway, he on his way to work and she on her way to the mall to buy things that will never divorce their price tags.<\/span><\/p>\n

Despite the laughter, she looked up and saw a woman jogging, striding down the freeway naked, with the exception of those shoes. Instinctively Shonda took stock of the woman. She was young and taut. <\/span>If she had a husband at home, she wouldn\u2019t have all of that time for working out.<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat are you looking at?\u201d Shonda accused James.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhy can\u2019t you talk nice to me sometimes,\u201d James asked her, softly, still staring after his customer.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cTalk nice to you so you can feel warm inside while you watch these girls.\u201d Shonda\u2019s disgust dripped from her lips like blood from a boxer\u2019s wound. Her condescension was strong enough to shroud the forest of jealousy that had sprung up around her.<\/span><\/p>\n

Never before had James wanted to hit Shonda, but something vicious roused from its dormancy. It was hungry, it wanted to devour her. It told him that she had better be glad that they were stuck in the middle of traffic with so many witnesses. He knew that there were people with cameras ready to record the colors of his rage, crimson, cranberry, scarlet, the colors of her blood, poppy, brick, fire-engine. He bit at the insides of his mouth, not enough to draw blood, but enough to taste it, enough to keep him from hitting her, from grabbing her by the hair and pushing her face toward the dashboard. He wondered what it would feel like to break her nose.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s the matter, James? You don\u2019t hear me?\u201d Shonda asked.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s the matter with you? You can\u2019t work?\u201d The dam was weakening, the deluge growing nearer.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat did you say to me, James?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou know what, Shonda, all I want to know is whether you saw the shoes?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

Want to catch up on the story? Do it here<\/a>.<\/p>\n

 <\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u201cShonda, look!\u201d James exclaimed. Shonda was looking.  Looking right out the window. She was looking as far as she could see. If she could have, she would have looked her way right out of that car, right out of her marriage, right out of her life. Not life itself, let there be no mistake about that,… Continue reading Traffic #3<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"Traffic #3 A novel I wrote a few years ago piece-by-piece.","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[742],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-4806","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-traffic","entry"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p33KTw-1fw","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack-related-posts":[{"id":4786,"url":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/2016\/06\/traffic-2\/","url_meta":{"origin":4806,"position":0},"title":"Traffic #2","author":"admin","date":"June 24, 2016","format":false,"excerpt":"Megan noticed, as all women learn to at one point or another, that it was taking all of the effort that he had to keep his eyes aimed at hers. Upon reaching his car, she had realized her power, his vulnerability. And who said she wasn\u2019t spontaneous? Gary had said\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Traffic"","block_context":{"text":"Traffic","link":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/category\/writing\/traffic\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"serialnovel","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/06\/serialnovel.gif?resize=350%2C200&ssl=1","width":350,"height":200},"classes":[]},{"id":2307,"url":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/2011\/10\/w\/","url_meta":{"origin":4806,"position":1},"title":"W","author":"sherlonya","date":"October 7, 2011","format":false,"excerpt":"Dear Mr. President, I do not appreciate your presence in my dreams. Let me not be unclear, it is one dream, recurring. Why do you stand on my childhood bed beneath the canopy in your shoes and dress socks, cowboy boxers and light blue pressed shirt, ...","rel":"","context":"In \"George W. Bush\"","block_context":{"text":"George W. Bush","link":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/tag\/george-w-bush\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"","width":0,"height":0},"classes":[]},{"id":4778,"url":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/2016\/06\/traffic-1\/","url_meta":{"origin":4806,"position":2},"title":"Traffic #1","author":"admin","date":"June 23, 2016","format":false,"excerpt":"Megan sat in her unreliable Plymouth Reliant in 85 degree, remind-you-of-a-moist-mouth, Michigan summer heat. Why is the universe mad at me this time? \u00a0She looked around, realizing that she was being dramatic again; to be stuck in traffic is to be stuck with the equally unlucky. \u00a0Revision: only someone who\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Traffic"","block_context":{"text":"Traffic","link":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/category\/writing\/traffic\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"serialnovel","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/06\/serialnovel.gif?resize=350%2C200&ssl=1","width":350,"height":200},"classes":[]},{"id":4818,"url":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/2017\/01\/traffic-4\/","url_meta":{"origin":4806,"position":3},"title":"Traffic #4","author":"admin","date":"January 5, 2017","format":false,"excerpt":"Megan. She gets worked up over everything. It\u2019s not like I called her a high school English\u00a0teacher. Uptight. That\u2019s what she is. Thank God I didn\u2019t call her that. And now I have to go buy her something. When we met she was\u00a0different, but she changed. They always go and\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Traffic"","block_context":{"text":"Traffic","link":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/category\/writing\/traffic\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/06\/serialnovel.gif?resize=350%2C200&ssl=1","width":350,"height":200},"classes":[]},{"id":808,"url":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/2010\/06\/dance-lesson\/","url_meta":{"origin":4806,"position":4},"title":"Dance Lesson","author":"admin","date":"June 26, 2010","format":false,"excerpt":"I decided to take a dance lesson this evening. I had been wanting to try samba for a little while and a local dance studio happened to be offering the class. I've done dancing of one sort or another for many years. I took dance classes as a young youngster\u2026","rel":"","context":"In \"dance\"","block_context":{"text":"dance","link":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/tag\/dance\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"","width":0,"height":0},"classes":[]},{"id":4190,"url":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/2014\/12\/an-interview\/","url_meta":{"origin":4806,"position":5},"title":"An Interview","author":"sherlonya","date":"December 15, 2014","format":false,"excerpt":"I asked a friend who is familiar with the variety of my writing and creative projects to ask me 10 questions about this project. I liked to be challenged, and he obliged me. Gotta love having great friends! Terry T: If you allow me to put you in a box\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Mathematics of a Race Riot"","block_context":{"text":"Mathematics of a Race Riot","link":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/category\/mathematics-of-a-race-riot\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"interview","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.riotnumbers.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/12\/interview-300x295.gif?resize=350%2C200&ssl=1","width":350,"height":200},"classes":[]}],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4806","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=4806"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4806\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4807,"href":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4806\/revisions\/4807"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=4806"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=4806"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=4806"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}