A sampling of the story "The Devil You Know" from my book Falling Into Place: An Anthology of Short Stories
“What’s that all over your clothes, Sidney? Is that blood ?”
Sidney Rosenthal stood dazed and silent in the doorway of the cozy, two-bedroom, Forest Hills, New York, apartment he has shared with his wife, Helen, for the last 14 years.
He nervously ran his fingers over the dog-eared copy of The Invisible Man, by H.G. Wells, in his right hand, fanning the pages repeatedly with his thumb. He could feel the congealed blood on the cover as he moved his index finger across the title, completely unaware of what his wife had just asked him. He blinked his eyes rapidly, trying to focus them before looking down at his clothing and the briefcase in his left hand, all covered with red splatters. It seemed like he’d walked right out of some kind of psychotic Jackson Pollock painting.
“Will you get in here before the neighbors think I’m married to some kind of serial killer?” Helen Rosenthal shouted, visibly annoyed as she pulled her husband into the apartment, quickly scanning the hallway outside for anyone who might have seen him. “That’s the last thing I need.”
“Yes, dear,” Sidney mumbled as he dropped his briefcase next to the coat rack just inside the door.
“Where did all that blood come from?” Helen asked. “What happened to you? What foolishness have you gotten yourself into this time? Are you listening to me, Sidney Rosenthal? What is wrong with you?” She peppered him with questions, not giving him a chance to answer even one of them. It didn’t register with Sidney that none of her questions included, “Are you all right?”
He absentmindedly walked to the end of the narrow hallway, making a right into the kitchen before sitting at the table, taking his familiar red vinyl chair across from the refrigerator. It was where he’d eaten more meals than he could remember; a place that should garner an air of familiarity and safety, but it seemed completely alien to him now. He placed the book on the table and stared out the window located over the kitchen sink to the right of the Frigidaire.
“What in God’s name is wrong with you, Sidney?” Helen yelled as she entered the kitchen. “Why don’t you answer me?”
The disoriented man slowly gazed up at his wife, but she seemed a stranger to him too. How did I get here? he wondered to himself.
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