Fits of Jealousy

Every evening I come home on time, I hug you and say, " How was your day? " No smile, no affection, no greeting from you: you seem the image of clay, but a resentful feeling, fed by suspicion, is ready to explode inside! Staring at me with doubt, you'll soon turn into a freak; I go to the kitchen to get a beer to wash the poison down... when I get back, my cell phone is gone! There you are! Curved up into the love seat checking out all my messages and a particular picture.... angrily you say, " Who's that silly blonde? Your new lover? " I fight back by saying, " Darling, have you touched another drink? What is the meaning of these fits of jealousy? " And vicious than a tiger showing her sharp teeth, you get up to start a demoniac fight revving up your stupidity. Anything that lies on the coffee table you throw at me: a pack of cigarettes, even an ashtray that misses me by an inch, by luck, I duck feeling like a grindstone turned by a winch... I yell, " Damn you and your jealousy! " I shut the door and flee.