Remember the story I was filling this diary with last year? Well, I finally started working on it again. I'll be posting portions a little at a time, I would greatly appreciate comments and suggestions but try to be nice.

~~~~Preface~~~~

�So you want to know what I'm thinking, eh Mickey?"

Soft rustling filled his ears as row upon row of satin and silk dresses were pawed through and discarded. He traced patterns of bead work and elegant stitchery with his eyes as the woman turned her head; looking over her shoulder at him. His gentle, gray eyes took in her harsh, scornful and bitter expression as he patiently listened to her voice rear up through her small chest. It was nearly an echo of her angry eyes.

"I think you know what I'm thinking." She paused a moment, scanning his face as if estimating exactly where to strike, and how deeply. "If you had an ounce of sense you'd just turn tail and run away. But no, you don't have any dignity at all. You're not a man, you're a flea."

She turned back to the rows of dresses before her, again pushing her way through them without care. Michael shook his head as she grabbed a bright red, nearly crimson, sheath dress. His voice slid thickly from his throat as he followed her toward the changing rooms.

"I won't level petty insults at you, Joanna." He chose to ignore her use of the nickname he hated. "And I didn't ask what you were thinking. I asked why you were angry."

Taking up a position outside her dressing room, he listened to the soft rustling of silk as she tried on the dress. A faint sigh of long-suffering frustration slithered from between her lips. He could almost see the rolling of her eyes and for half a moment he wondered what she would look like with her eyes permanently rolled back into her skull. The slight smirk was quickly wiped from his lips at her next words.

"God, Mickey; you are so dense!" She practically exploded from the dressing room, staring up at him. Defiance and hatred mixed together in her eyes. "You're of no use to me. You're a liability. All you do is drag me down. I don't want you, don't you get it? Do I have to spell out everything for you?"

He blinked at her outburst clenching his jaw tightly. Such a volatile reaction had not been on his list of things to endure. After evaluating Joanna for a long moment, Michael put his thoughts into words.

"Very well. You have made yourself quite clear. I will take up no more of your time."

Michael turned from her, walking casually from the dressing area. He hadn�t missed the look of surprise, nor had he missed the reflection of her shocked and speechless face from the myriad mirrors. He didn�t hesitate or look back. There was no sign, no hint of emotion as he walked through the racks of dresses and out of the store.

Memories arced like lightning through an angry sky as Michael strode to his car: visions of Joanna�s smiling face; tender words uttered in the dark of night; promises of an eternity spent together. The power of such memories faded with each step further from her presence. Coming to a decision, he realized he could either take her negative attitude as part of the package or demand better for himself.

Once he had reached the car his hand rested upon the release, not quite ready to open the door. Michael looked back to the store, only a hundred yards away, to see Joanna standing in the window, as if daring him to leave her there. A tide of hate rolled toward him, powerful and nearly tactile. Shaking his head at her, this time in finality, he opened the door and slipped into the Lumina.

Again electric memory bolted through him. A low, angry grunt barked from his throat as Joanna's words tumbled to the forefront of Michael's mind. �You need the Lumina for our future, Mickey�. God, how he hated that name, and yet, the memory would not abate. �Don�t even think about some tacky SUV. Besides, the Lumina matches my hair.�

Michael growled to himself at the remembered sneer as she mentioned the SUV, again feeling her hate wash over him. �How can we be a proper married couple if you won�t do this simple thing for me?� He remembered her attempt at cajoling him then, her tones turning saccharine sweet. Bile threatened to rise at the insistent, mocking reminders.

From the interior of the Lumina he'd bought for their future, to appease her, he looked toward the dress shop again. He couldn�t tell if she was still in the window or not and Michael realized he didn�t really care. He closed the Lumina�s door and with the soft click of the locking mechanism, the hate surrounding him faded away. �I�ll always love you, Mickey.� The words jolted him and it took him a full minute to realize it was only a memory.

Michael exhaled slowly, starting the car. One last shake of his head settled the decision in his mind. He pulled from the parking space, maneuvering the sedan away from a past which no longer fit. With each minute which ticked by; with each mile he put behind him, rightness permeated the car�s interior. The hint of a smile, the first in months, crawled across his lips as an idea brushed against his mind.

He settled back more comfortably, in the driver�s seat, then turned his focus west. Miles rolled along beneath the tires as Michael drove toward a new destination. His thoughts churned with an unknown power. �I make my own decisions. From here on out, I make my own decisions. Always.�

The smile broadened, a sense of freedom taking him by storm, settled more easily upon his shoulders. Plans and hopes planted seeds deep within his psyche as he followed the unnatural curves of the highway. A new destination awaited him; a new destiny unfolding before him.