Busted

It was noon by my watch but I was already tired and I felt like I had been working non stop for ten hours. On top of that I was having a really bad day. Everything seemed to go wrong. The fact that my assistant had the day off and I was doing work for two didn’t help matters. My boss noticed that I was stressed out and when an issue cropped up at the bank that needed to be sorted out, he suggested I go so that I could at least get out of the office and cool off a bit. There was no company car available so I boarded a bus. Coincidentally the bank was on the same route as my home but 10 kilometers apart. The distance to the bank was short but there was heavy traffic so I expected to take longer than usual to get there. That was fine since I wasn’t in any hurry to get back to the office and the longer it took the better it would be for me. I looked out the window and completely zoned out and even when the conductor asked for my fare I gave it to him without even glancing in his direction. He said something inaudible which I nodded to and he moved on.

The bus stopped and I alighted. I walked a bit, climbed a flight of stairs, unlocked a door and stepped inside. Someone let out a cry of surprise, dropped a tray with glasses of something and then jumped back. It was my wife, in a bathrobe, staring at me like I was a ghost. I had scared her. I apologized. “What are you doing home at this time?” she asked shakily. Good question. Last time I checked I was supposed to be at the bank. I gave her an indifferent answer and turned to leave. Something caught my eye and I stopped. A man’s shoes, certainly not mine. They looked familiar. I looked at her. She looked away. I guessed the obvious and strode into the bedroom. My assistant was there naked and in between the sheets.


© james wamathai 2009