Chapter Three

The trip back home didn't really register in my memory. It seems i can forget things very easily. I rang the bell to my house and waited for my wife to let me in. It took her a little longer than normal, but i heard her clicking behind the door and then she let me in. When the door opened, she looked at me dead in the eyes. She was a vision: dark brown hair that flowed like choppy waves along a beach, a face that was slightly wrinkled after her years, but was still standing strong and she definatly looked younger than the age in her wallet. Catherine. Beautiful Catherine. Beautiful sweet kind and lovely Catherine. Beautiful Catherine, who's standing in the doorway. Beautiful Catherine who is holding a suitcase. Beautiful Catherine who is looking at me and without saying a word, has already told me that my life is headed for a rather large dip.