Time is Relative

Her foot tapped against the coffee table, firing contact tremors through her cold cup of once hot tea. �It�s 12:15 and he�s late,� she hissed through tightened lips as her husband calmly watched ESPN.

�Yes,� he agreed as the TV replayed the day�s football highlights.

She glared at the door and said, �Aren�t you worried?�

�Yes,� he answered.

�You don�t look it,� she accused.

�You�re conflicted enough for us both,� he responded.

Abruptly she stood up, stomped to the window and stared outside. �What is he doing?� she demanded.

�The same things we did at that age,� he answered knowingly.