Everyone Knows You Go Home

by Natalia Sylvester

Isabel was grateful that her husband understood true romance is about infusing small moments with simple bliss.

At least they were peaceful, at least they became well rehearsed at avoiding each other’s eyes. They were hyperaware of their bodies and personal space, in which they each orbited without crossing into the other’s. Their gravity didn’t allow for touching. It was practically a new form of intimacy.

Things here were new, clean, better. But there were days when he felt he had traded his life for somebody else’s and gotten the wrong size.