#12 Honey

“Honey,” she said, exasperated as it rolled off her tongue. It tasted like dirt and dust, nothing at all like the thick sweetener that the pet name suggested. The word felt empty, weightless, but bore paper-cut shards that attempted to veil over what she truly meant.𝐼’𝑚 𝑠𝑜 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢.

It always starts that way.

At first, he thought she had calmed down or had forgiven him because hours later, she would suggest that they play hide and seek. I'll be the seeker, she said, smiling as she strokes his head. Go hide and I'll come find you.

He soon learned to wish that she didn't.

“Honey,” she would sing, stretching the last syllable so that the venom dripping from her voice could seep through the floors, running alongside the wood veins, looking for where he was hiding in the house.

There are days when she would feel especially cruel and bring a bent coat hanger with her during the game.

She would always find him.

*****

This was originally inspired by that one time a friend told me that pet names sounded condescending but as I wrote the story began to spin out of control.

Personally, though, I loved pet names, but now I’m a little iffy after writing this.