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John let himself onto the next step, he didn’t have the strength, let alone the will, to move his muscles any more than what was strictly necessary to keep him alive today.

He had left his wife packing a few seconds earlier. Packing for the last time in the apartment.

He felt numb. Not hurt … yet … But that would probably come later, with the realisation of what was really happening. That was the way with these things, wasn’t it?

"You are boring, John, that’s why I am leaving … your hobbies are boring, your conversation is very boring, your after shave is boring … even your car is boring …Your lovemaking is awfully boring for God’s shake!!!"

His lovemaking boring? Surely not … at least the ladies he used to visit once a week didn’t think so. And men who went to those sort of places weren’t boring … for a second he was tempted to explain this to her, then he thought better and kept silent.

His head was exploding with questions today. Nothing made much sense anymore. Had he seen cows floating in the sky, it just wouldn’t have surprised him a bit. Sarah was leaving him after fifteen years together.

Yesterday he had had everything a guy could wish for. All the essentials for a life of enjoyment, (including of course a Play Station; a cinema-sound-wide-screen-television; a card for the best fitness club in the area - to use exclusively for a bit of sauna… John wasn’t the sporty guy, he had never been -; a stereo system that would have left the neighbourhood deaf for good had he wanted to test it to the limits… and of course a gorgeous and very sophisticated wife, with a better job than his.) Tomorrow he would have nothing, an empty flat… and maybe the Play Station. Sarah hated the damned thing.

What good was a Play Station without a television? And why the hell was he thinking about such nonsense right now???

How could they just break up like that? Fifteen years of their lives terminated during five minutes before work? It wasn’t the way to do these things. Then again … was there a right way to do these things? Was there a handbook anywhere? He was losing his mind!

She had said:

"I’m going, there is no way I’m staying a day longer in this place. But you go to work. It’s better like this John; trust me for once will you? This is no life for either of us"

For either? Hadn’t she meant for herself? He had been very happy! Well … maybe just happy, but he didn’t know any better than that, and he didn’t want to know either!

Then she had said, simply:

"Call later"

And with that in mind he had closed the door behind him.

Had he taken the mobile phone? Of course he had. He never left without it. So he could call her anytime from the toilet. Yes, that was a better place than his cubicle in the office. He didn’t want anybody to hear that conversation with Sarah … it wasn’t the sort of thing one wanted one’s work-mates to witness…

Had she meant she would think about it a little longer, while he was at work? Maybe she would have changed her mind when he called … yes … surely it wasn’t so easy leaving the place you had shared, that had been your home for years, and the person you had loved since you were practically in nappies! Or was it? And how did he know she had loved him at all? He thought she loved him this morning, when he woke up in their bed only to find her packing. He thought she loved him while he was asking what she was doing. He had even thought she loved him while he was hearing her saying that she was leaving him!

Now it started hurting. It started hurting physically. Maybe that’s why people always identified the heart with love.

For a moment he thought he was falling, quickly he took some deep breaths and started feeling slightly better.

Why didn’t he run back upstairs and tell her not to leave? Beg her if necessary?

He knew the answer to that question at least: because it wouldn’t make the slightest difference. When Sarah had made a decision, begging wouldn’t change a thing.

As he was just about to reach the front door to the street, Teresa, the foreign girl that had recently moved to the fourth flour, came trotting and greeted him with a loud and very foreign-sounding hello.

He responded politely, but quickly, convinced that that would let Teresa know that he wasn’t in the mood to talk. It should have been obvious that he was late for work anyway! But evidently, things didn’t quite work in the same way in her country as she just started chatting away.

So fast was she talking that John wondered how she was being able to breathe at all, and with such a strong accent that he hardly understood a word of it. But that’s what’s expected from foreigners, isn’t it? They talk and talk and talk, and don’t know much about privacy or manners… He was being rude now. But it wasn’t his fault entirely … it simply wasn’t the best day of his life.

Teresa was waiting for the answer to some unheard question. John panicked … what was he going to answer?

And probably from the answer it would come the possibility to get rid of her or having her making some more questions! He was really late now. Why in hell did he have to be so polite to everybody? You don’t have to talk to someone who can hardly speak your language, in the day your marriage is falling to pieces, and when you are being late for work, do you? Especially when you only met that person a few weeks back!

He should just tell her he was on a hurry and run towards the tube station. But John couldn’t possibly do that. Maybe that’s what his wife meant by ‘boring’.

So he stood there and said ‘yes’ hoping that that would do, and the miracle happened.

Teresa smiled broadly; she looked actually prettier than ever … had she put some make up on? That was it! She didn’t use to wear make up … and said: "I’m glad. See you later then. Take care John"

"Thank you," he answered, happy he could at least understand her last few words "You too."

He let her go out first, then rushed out.

Sarah was throwing everything inside the suitcase. Nothing like she would normally do. But she was on the verge of a panic attack.

Was she really leaving? Yes, and it was high time she did too! What had she answered when he asked her why? She had lied. She wasn’t leaving because John was boring. He wasn’t the soul of any party, that was true, but he was pleasant enough to be with, and in occasions even fun.

The reason for her decision was simple: she didn’t love him, she hadn’t ever been in love with him, and coming to think about it … neither had she with any of the others in between.

The problem had started with her parents. In the same way a violent home breeds violent children, a home full of love breeds children with the need of love, and her parents had been like teenagers in mating season till they died within days, (such had been their need for each other) making Sarah and her sister obsessed with the idea of finding as soon as possible a man who would love and respect them as much as their dad had loved and respected their mum.

It was clear like water now.

She had everything but love. And she hadn’t found it because she had been too impatient to wait for it, and had married the first man in her way instead.

There had never been passion between them, not like in her parents’ relationship.

Of course the first few months together they had done nothing but shag all day, but that happened in every relationship, it didn’t mean anything special.

Suddenly she felt as if somebody had stabbed her in the chest … was that sadness? Was it pity for John? No. He would find another woman quickly; men were like that.

Probably as soon as she left.

A woman from his office … yes … that fat whale, what was her name? Debbie, that was it! She had always had an eye on him, and she hadn’t bothered hiding her interest in front of Sarah during the last Christmas party either! She was a whore …

Grrrrrrrrrrrrr how much Sarah had disliked her since the day they met.

But it wasn’t her business any more. If Debbie wanted to shag John senseless she could have him all.

Of course he would take a little to convince. Passing from her breathtaking figure to that of a marine mammal wasn’t going to be easy, but the whale would manage. Whores where like that, they could seduce men just like that, even when their bodies were an absolute mess from nature.

Seduction, after all, had very little to do with shape but lots with attitude!

Why did she feel a bit ill now picturing John with another, very real, woman? A woman she knew was only too eager to share a bit more than an office desk with her husband? Precisely, because of the title, of course! Because he was still her husband.

Once she had got the divorce and was with the real man of her life (she could see him already, tall, quite strong and athletic, blue eyed, with beautiful wavy hair… oh yeeeeeeeeeessssssssssss) John would become history, and she would be ready to assist to his wedding. What the …? She could even be the witness for them if they wished her to!!! What an amusing thought … amusing? So why the little pain in the chest, why the cold sweet?

It was only nerves; after all, you don’t leave your sweetheart everyday!

She would feel much better when she was out of there.

She kept throwing stuff in the bags.

John arrived to his office covered in sweat, in a precarious general state.

He wished he could get a bit decent before starting, but it was late enough as it was.

He rushed to his desk, sat down and started working.

He started with the job he had initiated a couple of days earlier. How trivial everything related to work seemed now… Only two days, and his perspective on things had changed from white to black.

His mobile phone rested by the keyboard’s side. He looked at it. He wanted to call her. How long had it been since he left the flat? Would she already be finished? She might not even be there anymore … and once she left, he would have no way to get in contact with her.

He was panicking again, wasn’t he? Was this panic? He hadn’t ever been panicky before… then again, he had never been in trouble before, had he? His life had always been very smooth … till today.

His eyes flew to the mobile phone again. It seemed to be asking him to call her … all shiny and ready … as if in eager wait for his owner to make that very important call.

But no … he couldn’t call just yet, it was too early, she wouldn’t like it if he called so early. Though what did she expect? She probably knew he would call as soon as he could; it was his life she was messing up with! And he was dependant on her; they both knew it.

She could live without him no problem, in fact there was only one person Sarah couldn’t live without … and that was Sarah herself. On the other hand John was weak, pathetic really. He had passed from his overprotecting mother’s hands to Sarah’s the day they had married. And now he didn’t have mother to come back to any more. Had he had a mother, he probably wouldn’t have wanted to anyway, he loved Sarah too much.

Yet another look at the mobile … he picked it up … pressed the button, only once, and there it was ‘my Sarah’ in big capital letters.

He left his big finger resting on the call button now. He should do it really, what if he waited till lunch and by then she was gone?

She had only said, ‘Call later’, that didn’t exactly mean, ‘I’ll wait for your call’, did it? Had she said that just to relax him and see him go? Probably, that was very much Sarah…

He pressed the button.

First ring, no answer, second ring, no answer, third ring … still no luck … ‘Come on Sarah … please, be still there’

Suddenly her voice on the other side, sweet, breathless.

"Hello?"

"Sarah? Is that you?"

"Of course it’s me John, what a question, who would it be otherwise?"

"OK, OK, no need to be like that Sarah, not today …" He was finding it very difficult to talk now.

"Are you still packing?"

"Yes, I’m nearly done now … "

"Sarah please, please don’t go … lets discuss this a little bit more, give me a few days together. I can ask for a week off, and we can talk all you want. You shouldn’t rush. This is important. You might…"

"John, this is not something I’ve decided in the spot. I’ve been thinking about it for quite a long time now…"

"I know, I know I am not saying…"

"Look, I am trying to finish with this now…"

John felt that pain again.

"Sarah, listen, you have to listen…"

The signal was starting breaking up.

"You might have thought about this, but you never talked about it with me till today! It’s not fair, you are not thinking straight. You are tired, and so am I! "

Could she still hear what he was saying? The signal was nearly gone… "I have things to tell you…"

When he put the handset back on the desk, he could feel his colleagues eyes set on him.

Teresa was looking outside from the bus.

Oxford Street was packed, as usual.

The day was warm and sticky, the English summer was at its peak.

Her sister spoke animatedly to a friend she had brought with her. How many times had Teresa played the role of a tourist guide in London? So many in fact that she knew that city far much better than her own.

Teresa wasn’t paying much attention to her sister’s conversation.

The people of London still fascinated her, they looked like aliens lost in her world, all so different, all so exited about what they were seeing, all so … so like herself the first times she had been there!

Meanwhile John had run downstairs, out to the street … still no signal … it was like a bad joke … His hands were shaky. He was going to miss her! And then … that would be it … alone … with his Play Station.

He run a bit farther, reaching now the flow of tourists enjoying the heat of the day. Still dialling her mobile’s number … or trying to anyway. Getting more and more anxious.

He got an answer finally. She was still at home, sitting by her suitcases. Her voice sounded funny, as if she had been crying.

"Sarah, honey"

‘Honey’ she thought ‘what a sticky word… but so warm and familiar coming from him’

"Sarah, I am coming home right now. Don’t move from there, we can have lunch together, what do you say?"

His heart was going to leave his body through his mouth if he didn’t relax a little.

"I don’t know John"

"Come on, just give me that much. What about the French restaurant?"

She smiled to herself …

Teresa was staring at a little girl eating an ice cream and walking … what nationality could she be? French? Italian? Too smartly dressed to be English…

Suddenly the bus came to a halt. Confusion, voices, people trying to see what had happened … fear.

She couldn’t see a thing. Her sister stood up. All Oxford Street seemed to stop to look at the front of their bus.

"What is it?"

"There is a man on the floor … the bus must have hit him …"

Teresa felt suddenly sick with the news.

"Is it bad?"

"It looks it Tere… there is blood all over the pavement … unbelievable! They are trying to get the mobile phone from his hands and he just won’t let go!!"

"Those bloody things. It’s quite surprising not more people have accidents because of them. We don’t look around anymore!"

Lots of noise now … people talking very loud, some actually screaming. Sirens approaching.

Sarah could hear all this going on from the other side of the phone line. All she wanted to hear was John’s voice telling her that he was all right, but she knew he wouldn’t speak.

"John" she whispered once and again. "John, baby, are you OK? John …"

But John wasn’t OK at all. He was there and he could hear her voice, far away, farther and farther now. John wasn’t worried anymore. That wasn’t his worst day anymore. John was the one leaving now.

The ambulance stopped by his body, and while some paramedics jumped out to help him, Teresa’s bus started moving again, slowly, as before. And then it was gone. Oxford Street was coming back to life.

‘She’ll sell the Play Station’ John thought before letting go on the phone.