Word of the day: Dawn
Leslie ushered Pastor Buck out the door and urged him to not return. Marty’s disbelief covered his face and it dawned on him that this was a final straw.
“Why won’t you listen to me? You never listen to me!”
She threw her hands up in the hair and hurried past him to the kitchen. Marty stalked after her, determined to win this debate. Leslie wanted no part of it and escaped into the living room. Marty remained undaunted. He flailed his arms as he chased and his voice continued to raise in both volume and intensity. His wife pushed past him and headed toward the stairs. She bounded up them, Marty close on her demanding to know why she wouldn’t listen to him. She never listened to him.
“I’m so sick of you treating me like I’m stupid!” he yelled when they reached the top step and grabbed her shoulder. “Talk to me!”
“Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!” Leslie turned on her husband and pushed his hand away then gasped in horror.
He tumbled and struggled to reach for the bannister as he spilled backward. His hand missed and he rolled down the stairs. Marty’s legs, arms, and torso rolled over one another as he crashed at the bottom in a lifeless heap on the floor. A sick churning turned in her stomach and her breathing stopped for moment.
“Marty?” she called out. “Oh my god!”
She rushed down the stairs and knelt over her husband and reached out a trembling hand. Her child’s voice beckoned from the top step.
“Mommy? Did Terry do that?”
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