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He woke up to the sound of the maddening leaves. The sun was croaking forth. He had slept in the woods because of a fight with his wife the night before. He had nowhere else to go. She was mad at him because he had quit his job as a butcher. He hated being a butcher and besides that, his boss was cruel. He wasn’t even very good at it. His mind wandered to other things far too often. He could never focus on the flesh and the blood.

“Everyone’s better than you!” she had screamed at him.

He wasn’t about to take that abuse. He packed up his knives and a few belongings and walked out of the house.

“And don’t come back until you’re a better person!” she had yelled to him at the doorway.

That day will never come, he thought to himself. Because in her mind, he would never be better.

He really wanted to go back and haul off and hit her. He was so hurt and mad. But he would never do that. It wasn’t in him. It was the same with butchering meat. It wasn’t in him. It was just something his father-in-law had convinced him to do because, well, he was an arrogant prick and thought he knew what was best for everyone even when he had no clue.

He sat up and put his back against a tree trunk. It was quiet out in the woods. He liked that. He looked down at his satchel of fine knives and wondered what he’d do with them now. But then he thought that they might come in handy if he was going to live in the woods forever now. He gathered his things, took a deep breath, and walked toward his uncertain future.  

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Thank you to Edge of Humanity Magazine for recently publishing this flash fiction piece.