Just A Faint Wind Day!

The wine glasses hanging above the wet bar in your summer cottage are shaking in their slots, banging together at the steady rhythm of an oncoming train signal. A storm wind sent in through the deck door sent them rattling. The noise wakes you up and sends you into the maniacal clutches of your vengeful ex-husband. The phone is dead.

You were awarded both the summer cottage and the Brooklyn flat, nothing beyond what you'd requested. Both combined don't equal the value of the Greenwich home your ex will be keeping for himself. But Jess didn't want to relinquish his claim on the memories housed inside each.

"Lets sell them both," he offered. "You'll keep all the proceeds."

When you balked, Jess grew more aggressive. Showing up at your sister's where you were staying to argue his case. In twelve minute orations delivered on the front step of her house, he'd complain of you bringing a new man back to his cottage and tainting everything the two of you shared there. "What we have is dead," he once said, back when he could control his anger. "But please don't try to kill what we had."

You told him to speak to his lawyer, who would in turn speak to hers. In the divorce mediation, he let more outbursts against your character fly across the table. At night, he'd pull up outside your sister's house and park there for hours. Until one morning, your sister's son walked out to meet his schoolbus and found a pair of your panties on the front lawn. He brought it into the house and gave it his mother, who handed the pair to you. The next morning, the mediation judge exacted a restraining order upon Jess, and the divorce agreement was rapidly sewn up not long after, since Jess' objections would no longer be granted any merit.

Tonight, the memories built in the cottage remain untainted. You've brought no man home. You're alone, and the wine glasses are clanging away with a sound that should be a signal for nothing. But you have to go and close the deck door. Jess is sitting at the head of the breakfast table. He sits in violation of his restraining order because he has something unpleasant to tell you.

Happy Just A Faint Wind Day!