# Love in vain (1,562 words; expletives)



## fpak (Dec 19, 2014)

Note: Rolla is a lower income area in Dubai. Also there is some explicit language in the story.


Love in Vain (_Working title)_



I drove Nabila to the airport that day for her afternoon flight to the U.K. My wife was going to commence her Master’s Course at the London College of Communication. Her parents lived in London so she’d stay with them. I wouldn't see her for a year, or more.  She said she would have a lot of coursework to deal with. She said this would be good for us too. She said that she needed to be by herself for some time. She actually said that.

All through the drive I smelt the perfume my wife was wearing. Every now and then something would stick, hard and painful, in my throat. At the airport parking lot I pulled her luggage out of the trunk. It was just a single trolley valise. We hadn’t done much shopping for her stay. Hell, I only knew about it a couple of weeks ago. Nabila checked her handbag; pulling out her passport and the envelope with her boarding pass. She put them back in, turned around to look at me, and then started walking without a word. I followed her, dragging the valise along.

*
We’d fought some over this, all right. The night before, I sat on our bed and watched as she folded her clothes into the valise. I watched as she strained to lift the bag onto the weighing machine. Then, before we went to bed, before we were done with that last day, I tried again. This time I pleaded.

“Please don’t go.” I said. “Please.”

We were in the kitchen, each having a cup of milk before bed. She put her cup in the sink, and I drained down mine and placed it on the slab.

“Please Nabila.” I said. It’s easy to say it once you start.

Nabila shook her head. Then she looked at me as if from a distance with her head cocked slightly to the side.

“I’m sorry Nawaz.” she said finally. “I’m just sorry for all this.”

“You don’t need to say sorry.” I said. “You don’t need to go. Just stay here. It’ll be fun again. I know it’s been bad for a while now. But it’ll be nice again.”

She kept shaking her head.

“Nawaz.” she kept saying. “Nawaz.”

“What?” I asked.

“I’m so tired of this shit.” she said

I rubbed my face with both my hands and then stared at her for a while. 

Finally  she said, “Please, let me just get out of here in one piece.”

And with that she walked out of the kitchen. I didn’t bother trying to ask her what she meant.
*
We were waiting in line to the check-in counter. It was moving slowly. Someone in front had brought too much luggage and was haggling with the woman behind the counter. I took this time to try and talk to Nabila. I couldn’t follow her past the security point once we were done with the check-in. So we only had some time left and I tried to talk to her a little. I looked at her and she raised her eyebrows at me.

“You hungry?” I asked her. “We can get something at the cafe before you leave…”

“I’m not hungry.” she said. “And anyway there isn't time for coffee or anything else.”

I nodded. She turned away and looked ahead at the counter. Her arms were folded and now she started tapping her foot on the floor.

“Hey.” I said

“What?” she asked.

“Best of luck with your studies. You’re gonna ace.” I said

She turned to look at me again.

“Thanks.” she said. She smiled tightly and looked away.

“Yeah.” I said. I wondered again how it had come to this.

*
Most people, they look at you too long and you feel a bit uncomfortable. But Nabila used to have this way of looking at me, like warm dappled sunlight lingering on my face. You don't feel uncomfortable when a child stares at you, you almost feel flattered. Everything is new to them, they could stare at anything in the whole world, and they choose to stare at you. And Nabila back then, everything was new for her, and she chose me. But that was a long time ago. We'd been married for five years now, and by the end the light had gone out of the way she looked at me, or anything else for that matter.

  The last year she was more open about it. She would just tell me I was fucking up. But that was still better than how she was before, when I was between jobs. During that time we were relying on what she made as an assistant editor for a couple of magazines. That was the time when I broke the microwave.

We were in the living room having an evening’s tea. It was one of those rare days when she’d come home early. We were sitting next to each other on the couch, and I had one arm around her. She had changed into her track pants and had her legs up on the coffee table. She seemed a bit tired but in a good mood right then. We took occasional sips from our mugs.

I told her “I feel under the weather these days.”

“Why?” she asked, looking at me.

I shrugged. “I’m doing nothing all day.” I said.

“Don’t let it get to you, sweetie.” she said. “You’re only between jobs right? You’ll get back to normal soon.”

I nodded. We sat like that, sipping our tea, for a while. Eventually she turned and said, “What is it? Tell me.”

I looked down at her face next to me and she smiled and pushed herself against me. She didn't do that often anymore.

I said, “I just think I’m fucking up is all.”

“Hey.” Nabila said. She massaged my knee. There was a small frown on her face.

I shook my head “This was not the plan.” I said

“This was not how things were supposed to go. I used to love life. I couldn't wait for it. Now, I’m on the wrong side of twenty five and I haven’t done anything so far. I’m living on my wife’s earnings. I’m living in a shitty little flat in Rolla. We were supposed to go the world over. We were supposed to experience things. You’re stuck here. I’m stuck here. And now I don’t even have a job to distract me from the mess I’ve made of things.”

Nabila blinked. Her hand was limp now on my knee.

“Well why did you quit your job then?” she asked softly.

“I hated working there.” I said. “It was no fun. It was killing me in a way. You know that.” I said.

Nabila bit her lip. I felt the familiar tension within me, when she started with that.

“Sometimes you do things that aren’t fun Nawaz.” she said. “You do things that kill you. You do them because you have to. Because it’s a part of living.”

“Don’t” I said. “Just don’t.”

Nabila closed her eyes and breathed out through her nose. She then opened her eyes. She let out a little laugh and gave a little shake of her head.
“Sometimes I think you are a special case, Nawaz.” she said.

“I know.” I said. “That’s how you treat me.”

Nabila laughed again, looking straight ahead. She took her hand off my knee and her legs off the coffee table. She sat forward and away from me.

“Well, if we’re going to talk about this, then I have to say, I think I have become silly to look at. You think you used to want to go places? I used to have pride too you know.” she said and nodded with a small smile. “But I married a man thinking I could change him. And now I can’t and I’m stuck. How silly is that.”

She gave another little laugh. I laughed too. She nodded and then got up and walked out of the living room, mug in hand. I sat in the couch feeling like cockroaches with twitching antennas were crawling all over my skin.

Around dinner time, I went into the kitchen and started slapping the microwave after putting a spring roll inside it. Nabila heard the noise and ran into the kitchen.

“What are you doing?” she shouted.

“The shitty thing isn't working.” I explained.

I slapped the microwave some more, and then I took hold of it on both sides and I lifted it a few inches off the slab. I held it for a moment with gritted teeth and straining arms and then dropped it back down. It hit the slab with a ringing metallic noise. I let out a sharp breath and wiped my mouth. I then turned around and stared at Nabila. I stared at her until her nose slowly suffused with pink and she started crying into her hands. Damn right, I thought.

“You fuck.” she said. “You low stinking fuck.”

*
There were just two more people ahead of us in the line. I wanted to keep talking.

I said “So hopefully this Media master’s degree, it will help you break into the big newspapers. Things will change right?”

She frowned “I’m not looking to work in journalism. Not anymore. And my Master’s is in advertising.”

“Really?” I said. “I didn’t know that.”

“No. You didn’t know.” she said.

I said “Let’s not fight. You’re going away. I didn’t know, but please, please don’t be mad.”

Nabila shook her head.

“I’m not.” she said.

She looked me in the eye as she said it, and I had to believe her. She was not mad, and it broke my heart.

She was gone.

I sat on the chair in the airport café and I waited. She’d gone past the security checkpoint and would be making her way to the terminal. I sipped my coffee and I waited. Eventually I heard the final boarding call for her flight. Still, it was a good half hour before I left the café.

The End


So that's the story.

Did the story come off as honest? Did the relationship, deteriorating as it was, seem natural? Or did it seem like I was trying too hard to be bleak in an effort at making things seem more profound than they really are?

I know that the idea of a break-ups and struggling marriages in one form or another is a staple of fiction, so does the story seem cliche and stereotypical? Or does it feel poignant and real?

Finally, does this have any potential of being published professionally? After any recommended edits of course. I don't just write for fun (though of course it is )I try to learn the craft too. 

I named this story after the Robert Johnson song. I was listening to the Rolling Stones cover of the song when I came up with the story and then wrote it. If you can think of a better name, lemme have it! 

Also SPaG notes and any other technical recommendations would be appreciated.




P.S: I know this is my third story here in around a week. I have just been on a productive run. I hope to take the next few days off to edit my work based on feedback I receive here, and hopefully critique and contribute more on the forums.


Either way thank you for your time.


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## Firemajic (Dec 19, 2014)

I am not sure how I feel about this--that says something does'nt it?...I had no problem reading it,all the way through. That says something, right ? For me, there wasn't anything that made this unique. Having said that, this was just interesting enough to keep me reading on, wondering what was going to unfold next. You are a storyteller and a good one.I will not comment on the SPaG--not my strong point [lol]. I did have an issue with you using the word "Slapped" with the microwave incident. Maybe "Slammed" or something like that.I hope this helps. I really did like it, I was just hoping for more drama. Keep at it! Thanks for sharing. Peace always...Julia


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## fpak (Dec 19, 2014)

Firemajic said:


> I am not sure how I feel about this--that says something does'nt it?...I had no problem reading it,all the way through. That says something, right ? For me, there wasn't anything that made this unique. Having said that, this was just interesting enough to keep me reading on, wondering what was going to unfold next. You are a storyteller and a good one.I will not comment on the SPaG--not my strong point [lol]. I did have an issue with you using the word "Slapped" with the microwave incident. Maybe "Slammed" or something like that.I hope this helps. I really did like it, I was just hoping for more drama. Keep at it! Thanks for sharing. Peace always...Julia




Hey Julia!!

Thanks for reading and telling me how you felt about it. It's funny you feel that there is no drama. I kept having this feeling while writing the story that I was verging on too much relationship break up drama. I usually try to make a point by understating it, and I was worried that here I wasn't being as subtle as usual.

As for him hitting the microwave, I purposely used the word "slapped" there to highlight just how absurd and stupid the action was. He was taking out his anger on a microwave of all things.

Once again, thanks for giving my work some of your time.


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## Chris Miller (Dec 19, 2014)

Not sure why you're sacking possible 1st print rights by publishing this in an open forum (accessible to search engines), and not in the Workshop. It struck me as a pretty mature scene, and pretty mature writing. Not melodramatic, but evocative and real. The only technical mistake I noticed (many times) was in your speech tag punctuation where a full stop is inside the quotes (should be changed to commas).

E.g.,
*“The shitty thing isn't working.” I explained.*
“The shitty thing isn't working,” I explained. 
(else it's read as 2 sentences)


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## fpak (Dec 19, 2014)

Chris Miller said:


> Not sure why you're sacking possible 1st print rights by publishing this in an open forum (accessible to search engines), and not in the Workshop. It struck me as a pretty mature scene, and pretty mature writing. Not melodramatic, but evocative and real. The only technical mistake I noticed (many times) was in your speech tag punctuation where a full stop is inside the quotes (should be changed to commas).
> 
> E.g.,
> *“The shitty thing isn't working.” I explained.*
> ...




Hi Chris

I've been reading some of your work. I just finished reading Swim earlier. I really liked it! I Loved Jesus Coach  and the stacatto syntax of that entire story. 

I was on the whole pretty pleased with this story I just had a slight worry that I'd over played the angst. Anyways you feeling that this was real and mature bolsters my confidence that I've done something good with this short story. And yes that's a silly and surprisingly consistent grammar mistake on my part.

Also when it comes to rights. I just figure I could take it off the forum if it ever got accepted anywhere. Do you think there's a major issue here?


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## TKent (Dec 19, 2014)

Hey fpak,

I read and enjoyed this one! I thought the tone fit the subject matter nicely. Were you trying to stay below a certain word limit? If not, the thing that was missing for me was a glimpse at what the relationship was in the beginning. I'm not suggesting any specific way to develop that, but I do think it would add to the story to have a real feelng of what was lost.

I was like Firemajic and flew right through it, wanting to know how it would end up. The romantic in me, hoped that she'd come back when he was still at the airport, but this isn't that kind of story. I was sad that it didn't work out so you did a good job, since that's the point. Lost love is sad. Especially wondering if a little more effort, dialog early on from both side may have saved it, but then again, maybe not, since you also hit a common issue, one half thinks they can change the other.

A few comments/nits below



fpak said:


> Note: Rolla is a lower income area in Dubai. Also there is some explicit language in the story.
> 
> 
> Love in Vain (_Working title)_
> ...


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## fpak (Dec 19, 2014)

TKent said:


> Hey fpak,
> 
> I read and enjoyed this one! I thought the tone fit the subject matter nicely. Were you trying to stay below a certain word limit? If not, the thing that was missing for me was a glimpse at what the relationship was in the beginning. I'm not suggesting any specific way to develop that, but I do think it would add to the story to have a real feelng of what was lost.
> 
> ...



Firstly, thanks a lot for the detail into which you went in this review.

In a novel there is enough space for a few bad notes to get lost in. But in a short story the details really matter. In such a short space, a jarring note jumps right out at you.

I read through your review and found quite a few recommendations that I liked and used them to edit the story. 

You also mentioned that showing how the relationship had been would be a good idea. I think that's very astute. I had been thinking of that myself, but I was worried that it would be a bit too sentimental and take away from the general vibe and focus of the story. However I think I've found a way to get around that.

I have already made the edits to the story about. Could you please give it a read and tell me what you think?

Once again, thanks.


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## TKent (Dec 20, 2014)

fpak,

I am traveling today but will review this carefully tonight or tomorrow. I scanned the first quarter and thought that the additions you made were working for me!  I saw a typo (finally is mispelled) but on a smartphone, so just too hard to do this on phone. LOL. My fingers are too fat and my eyes too bad. After reading this yesterday, I've been especially loving to my husband. LOL.


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## fpak (Dec 20, 2014)

Travel safe!!


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## TKent (Dec 20, 2014)

Hey fpak,

I thought what you added did the trick for me. That piece you added at the beginning of the 4th section was a very good way to express how good their relationship was when it was new!

I noticed a one more thing -  just a suggestion:

I would cut the word 'down' below. I think the sentence is smoother without it and not necessary.



> I drained down mine and placed it on the slab.


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