Bohemia Village Voice

This entry came fifth in our ultra-short story competition earlier this year.
The judges’ comments included ‘I enjoyed this’ and ‘Clever twist to the ending’.

It had been an uphill struggle and now came the ineluctable descent to destruction.
Apposite words, Jack thought, given the terrain around here. Yet he remained enraged, frustrated. Why hadn’t he seen it coming?
 All the signs were there, obvious now in retrospect, with the benefit of hindsight. Hadn’t she been increasingly unresponsive to his touch? Despite his coaching, his coaxing, the old spark just wasn’t there. In truth, the relationship had been running into trouble for some time.
 Why hadn’t he acted earlier?  Full of self-loathing, matched only by unrestrained ire against his soon-to-be departed partner, Jack began to count the financial cost of this breakdown. An extension to the mortgage? A personal loan? Just what would it take to see them through this painful change?
 She didn’t care, unfeeling cow. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t paid her enough attention, lavished hundreds, thousands on her, taken her to all the right places. All to no avail.
 Now it was time to split. There was no turning back. Maybe it had been a clash of cultures: when the going had been good, he’d given little thought to their different backgrounds, styles, tastes.
 Now, as Jack coasted downhill towards the Garage on the Green, he was determined not to make the same mistake again. He was going to trade in his faithless Honda for a Rover.