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Gwendolyn Kiste

The Sea Monster Affair My husband left me for a sea monster. We were on vacation at Myrtle Beach when it happened. Trying to save our marriage on one of those couples’ getaways. As if that was going to work. The whole time, I was worried some little coed on spring break might catch his eye. Instead, it was six feet of scales emerging from the Atlantic Ocean, seaweed in strategic places to cover her unmentionables. Like you could see anything under all that algae and slime anyhow. With the wide eyes of a kid who just found a cache of nudie magazines, my husband sidled up beside her on the sand. “What’s your name?” I almost puked—as much from his ham-handed seduction technique as from the fishy stench. Turns out you can smell sea monsters way before you can see them. All the way back to the hotel, he went on and on about her. “Did you notice how tall she was? She looks like a supermodel.” I scoffed. “Somehow, I doubt Sports Illustrated will call her anytime soon.” “Of course not. There are no phones underwater.” I ought to have slugged him then and drove us the twelve hours home. But I figured it was a phase. After all, she was quite the novelty. The other men in our group were enamored too. “Do you think she has a boyfriend?” one of the guys asked once his wife was out of earshot. Another shook his head. “I bet she’s not enough of a fool to get herself into a monogamous relationship.” I wondered how I could be such a fool myself. The ten-day vacation stretched into a millennium. By the third afternoon, my husband was sneaking off between tennis matches and cocktails, hoping to catch a glimpse. On the fifth evening he didn’t come back to the room at all. The following morning, he stumbled through the door, drenched and wild-eyed, with sea urchins hiding in the cuffs of his salt-stained pants. Not much different than how he looked the first time I woke up next to him after a frat party. “Do you and that water-logged hussy even have the proper parts to make it work?” I asked. He grinned. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” I went to the spa while I decided what to do. The staff was genial about the whole thing. “Happens a couple times a season,” the masseuse said as she worked the tight muscles across my shoulders. “Some guy sees one of them and boom! It’s love at first swim.” She glanced around and whispered, “For what it’s worth, those creatures are real gold diggers.” AFTER THE PAUSE VOLUME 2 ISSUE 1

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After the Pause: Summer 2015  

The summer 2015 issue of After the Pause features 33 writers from the United States and other amazing places around the world. Poetry, flash...

After the Pause: Summer 2015  

The summer 2015 issue of After the Pause features 33 writers from the United States and other amazing places around the world. Poetry, flash...

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