“DAN! Dan where are you going!? Dan, come back!”

Abby yelled and screamed but her husband would not turn around. He was sprinting away down the street after jumping from a dinner table filled to the brim with silence. He was running through a humid July night. His three-year old daughter, Adrien, cried after him.

He left from a typical dinner table of pot roast, just like every Monday night. He just got up and left as fast as his legs could carry him without a word. He and Abby hadn’t fought or argued. There was no reason to be upset. There was absolutely no obvious reason.

“DADDYDADDYDADDYDADDY!”


Ten years later Abby and Adrien had moved on. Abby was remarried to a nice man named Hank and Adrien was a young lady. They hadn't seen or heard from Dan since that night. Every Monday night in the summer they could smell the pot roast, hear the pounding of feet on the pavement, feel the warm, humid night. They could sense abandonment.