Caught in the Act
Cheating via typewriter
She caught him. She came home from rehearsal almost two hours early. He thought he had a few hours free to write.
“What are you doing?”
“What? Uh… I… uh… I… I’m just writing down some thoughts.”
“I was wondering why you had a typewriter. What the hell is going on? Oh my god! Holy crap, are you a writer?”
He was caught. He had been living with her for five months and had never divulged his secret passion. He never once told her that he was a writer. He remembered the last time he told a woman that…
“Oh my god! You are, aren’t you?!”
He was caught. There was no denying it. He could come up with no excuses. Why didn’t he say that he was writing a letter to his sister or something? Why did he feel so guilty? He was sure that she could feel his guilt. He was exuding guilt like a barrel full of holes exudes water. The moment he knew would eventually come had finally come. He wiped the sweat that was quickly collecting on his forehead.
“I just knew it. I knew there was something about you. Why don’t you just admit it to me instead of living a lie?”
He put out the cigarette that was burning away in the ashtray. He leaned back in his chair again wiping the sweat off his forehead…
