Hi! How’s your week been? Oh really? No kidding? Well, isn’t that something. Me? Oh, not bad, thank you. What’s that? Oh this? This is just a little short story I wrote. It hasn’t much in common with most of my other writing, it’s definitely not fantasy, but maybe you’ll like it anyway. Oh! And I decided to join another meme. I know, I know, that’s three a week. But, really, I was already posting short stories every couple of weeks anyway. Might as well hook up with some other authors doing the same, right? Anyway, this particular meme is hosted by the sweet, lovely Emily Witt of  A Keyboard and an Open Mind. ~ReGi

Rachel settled down next to Ronnie, arranging her legs criss-cross over each other. Her back protested slightly at the lack of support. She ignored it. She threw her couch away last winter when she found a family of mice nesting in it. She detested the idea of owning another piece of furniture that offered such accessible habitat to vermin. She considered scooting back to the wall, but that meant leaving Ronnie’s side. She wanted his attention more than she wanted a back rest at the moment.

Unfortunately, Ronnie was busy pouring all his attention into the old Super Nintendo he found at a garage sale for five bucks. The darn thing even came with about a dozen games. Old classics, apparently, that Ronnie loved during his childhood.

Make that his first childhood.

Rachel scooched a little closer. “Watcha playin’?”

“Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Tournament Fighters.”

Rachel watched the shelled figure she assumed her husband controlled blip here and there on the TV screen in glorious pre-HD cheesiness.

Nope. She didn’t see the point.

She shrugged and leaned over to nip at Ronnie’s ear, being sure to press seductively against his arm. “How was your day?” she breathed against his neck.

Ronnie jerked his elbow as his on-screen opponent attacked, as if moving his body made any difference in his character’s ability to counter-attack. Rachel grunted in pain and scooted  out of elbow range.

“Whaddja say?” Ronnie managed to ask when he finished virtually pommeling his enemy.


Ronnie hit a button on his controller. Two rows of strange beings popped up.

“Why are there two rows?”


“Two rows. There are two rows of the same characters. Why?”

“Oh. That’s so two people can play. The box came with both controllers. Wanna play?”

Rachel opened her mouth to turn down his offer, when it occurred to her that if he elbowed her without realizing it because his character was attacked, she might have an opportunity to elbow him back for the same reason.

Subtle revenge.

“Sure. What do I do?”

“Really? You really want to play with me?” Who knew a thirty year old man could get so excited over his wife playing a prehistoric video game with him?

“Sure. Why not? Just tell me what to push.”

Ronnie set up the second controller in a flash. He handed it to Rachel with a face that glowed with childlike eagerness. “Try not to make it too easy for me.”

Rachel rolled her eyes. At least this particular game required very little skill. She pushed buttons as fast as her fingers could fly. She won!

Ronnie called it beginner’s luck and pretended to sulk. His shinning eyes belied the pretense. Rachel got no opportunity to elbow Ronnie as she hoped, but his enthusiasm infected her, and she began to enjoy the game.  They went nine virtual matches against each other. Ronnie won by a mere five to four ratio.

When the ninth bell dinged, Rachel hit the start button again, a bit befuddled by her reaction to the ridiculous game, but ready to defeat Ronnie in the next round. She looked over at him expectantly.

Ronnie stared at her, eyes shining, smile not as childlike as it seemed a moment ago.

An unfamiliar wave of shyness swept over Rachel. “What? What is it?”

“You’re so beautiful.”

The words shot through her like cupid’s arrow and she blushed. She felt so silly. A married woman blushing just because her husband called her beautiful, but there it was. She blushed all the same.

She looked down at her controller and fiddled the buttons for a moment.

Ronnie’s fingertips brushed her chin, gently turning her face toward his. Gone was the little boy she played a video game with. Her lover faced her now. She leaned into his kiss.