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Shelton had no time for the crusty shenanigans of a sexual interlude with Beatrice.
“Your back door man is busy tonight.” He ended the call before she said word one.
The phone exploded. EX-WIFE ALL CAPS popped onscreen. Under the table during their arbitration, Beatrice had typed it into his phone – including the words ALL CAPS. She’d also programmed Wagner as her identifying ringtone. Wagner slipped from Shelton’s fingers and was muffled in the Bokhara hallway runner.
Nothing stands in the way of optimum dental health.
So there was vigorous brushing, swishing, flossing, and bloody gums. He smiled. His teeth felt loose and looked like peppermint pinwheels. He fainted. Blood always took Shelton down. It’s why he dropped out of dental school. One sink-borne head injury later, he crawled toward “The Ride of the Valkyries.”
“Can you take me to the hospital?” he said.
“Only after you fix what needs fixing,” she said.
Five out of five dentists recommend against concussion euphemisms.
“Priorities,” she said.
Shelton and Beatrice were married again in the springtime. Toothbrushes were scattered as favors. The good soft ones that didn’t shed like nose hairs or get stuck between your teeth. Some people took more than is reasonable, but nothing should stand in the way of optimum dental health. A Scandinavian honeymoon followed.
About JR Walsh
JR Walsh is the Online/Fiction Editor at The Citron Review. He has an MFA in Creative Writing from Boise State University, where he now teaches English as a Second Language. His writing is in fine publications such as NUNUM, Juked, Grey Sparrow Journal, Rougarou, Timber, Blink-Ink, 50-Word Stories, Esquire, and B O D Y. For more: itsjrwalsh.com.
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