Barbara Gets Shelved

My anger and sense of betrayal sustained me throughout the process. I knew the time would come when they would settle and I'd have to deal with the loss of love in my life and the possibility I'd walk the rest of my journey alone.

Some might say I'd have been better to forgive and forget but how do you forget, even if you can forgive? How do you not have doubt every time they run late, laugh at another man's jokes at some work function or party, or go out without you? How do you stop yourself checking their phones, their emails? I knew I wasn't capable of pushing Barbara's betrayal somewhere deep and dark where I could ignore it and I wasn't about to spend the rest of my life torturing myself for something she had done.

So, divorce was the only option.

That was the end of that. The counsellor recommended to the family court that the divorce be granted, saving us a twelve month wait. I delivered the $50, 000 specified in the prenup to her bank account. She promptly spent it on lawyers. Partly, to try to get the prenup overturned, and partly for her other legal issues.

Her other legal issues were in the news, on and off, for the next two years.

I don't know why it had been initially reported to me that Barbara had been in a car accident. I still I don't know what the reporter ended up paying John, but the juicy story of the public servant, injured while having sex with a lover, while travelling for her job, did make the front page of that newspaper. It made the front page of many newspapers.

Her name was never published, but those close to us, or, indeed, lived within two-hundred kilometres of us, knew who it was. She became a laughing stock at her place of work, and indeed the regional centres she'd been so enthusiastic about, and stayed away.

After she burned through her sick leave, she actually had the nerve to apply for workers compensation. Again hiding behind the media suppression order to keep her name out of the public eye. She claimed physical and mental distress from injuries sustained while travelling for government business.

To everyone's sense of justice, her claim was denied. That left her in a difficult spot as she had no sick leave left, and she'd just spent tens of thousands of dollars proving she was mentally incapable of returning to work. Whether she borrowed money from her parents, I will never know, but she appealed the decision and won. I couldn't believe it. I was disgusted. The whole county was. Most commentators used it as an example of how ridiculous some of our laws are.

However, before the insurance company paid a cent, the case was put before the full bench of the High Court, the ultimate court in the land. The papers were full of it. Again and again the headlines said what an extremely dangerous case it was. If successful, it would set a precedent and anyone hurt doing just about anything not work related, but legal, while on company business, would be compensated.

In a rare act of logical thinking, the High Court upheld the decision of the original court. Injured while having illicit sex while travelling for work was not considered a work accident.

Barbara drifted away after that and I don't know where she ended up. I still tell Marie I'm not interested. There may come a day when I might have to compromise and be in the same room as Barbara, after all we share a daughter, but thus far it hasn't occurred.

All the publicity actually acted in my favour. Whenever my humiliation was mentioned by the media, waves of sympathy came my way. Just about everyone in my circle of friends and colleagues had a single female friend wanting the chance to console me. I got to revisit my misspent youth and screw my way out of loneliness.

John turned out to be right. Anal sex is great.

Talking of John. He was in the paper again, twice, within a month of the events in this tale. An investigative journalist did some digging on him and published an exposé of his techniques; complete with photo. Within a week, he was found badly beaten with ruptured testicles outside one of his hunting grounds.

According to the paper, the police had no leads.

Maybe I should tell them about his escape from the angry husband that threatened to kill John when he caught him fucking his wife. Naaaa... none of my business.

AFTERWORD

We can hear you now. "How unlikely is that?" "I like some sort of believability in the stories I read." "Where's the twist you promised?"

Well, the twist is this. This is an embellishment of a true story. Don't believe me? Type 'nsw (New South Wales) woman injured while having sex' into your favourite browser.

This married woman was on a work trip, met up with a guy she'd hooked up with on a previous trip. During an energetic romp in her hotel bed, one of them pulled down a heavy glass light fitting above the bed. It hit the woman on the face, knocking teeth out and cutting her lip. The guy called an ambulance and the story got out. The woman claimed it triggered depression, but that was probably caused by her husband throwing her out and her kids disowning her.

She didn't come out of the divorce very well, so, for a source of funds, made a claim under workers compensation, arguing that as it occurred on a work trip, it was a work accident. The compensation board said, "Get fucked." Or words to that effect...

Desperate, she appealed to the Federal Court, who actually agreed with her. I know, insane, right? Her employer then appealed the decision to the High Court and won.

So, the next time you accuse an author of writing something too bizarre to be believed, think twice.

Last note before the funnies. SemperAmare has stories available elsewhere - all those on Lit and some others besides. If you want to find out more, please visit our bio.

NOW, TO EASE YOUR JOURNEY FROM FICTION BACK TO COLD, HARD REALITY...

Vandemonium1's joke

Recession beater.

Wife says to husband, "If you cycle to work, we can get rid of the second car."

He replies, "If you take it up the arse and let me cum on your face, we can get rid of the nanny!"

CreativityTakesCourage

Vandemonium1 and I were dressed and ready to go out for a lovely evening of dinner and theatre.

Having been burgled in the past, we turned on a night-light and the answering machine, then put the cat in the backyard.

When our cab arrived, beeping his horn, we walked out our front door and our rather tubby cat scooted between our legs inside, then ran up the stairs. Because our cat likes to chase our budgie we really didn't want to leave them unchaperoned so Vandemonium1 ran inside to retrieve her and put her in the backyard.

Because I didn't want the taxi driver to know our house was going to be empty all evening, I explained to him that my husband would be out momentarily as he was just bidding goodnight to my mother.

A few minutes later Van1 got into the cab all hot and bothered and said to my growing horror and amusement as the cab pulled away.

"Sorry it took so long but the stupid bitch was hiding under the bed and I had to poke her ass with a coat hanger to get her to come out! She tried to take off so I grabbed her by the neck and wrapped her in a blanket so she wouldn't scratch me like she did last time. It worked! I hauled her fat ass down the stairs and threw her into the back yard... she'd better not shit in the vegetable garden again."

The silence in the cab was deafening...

P.S. just so we're all on the same page; the above was a joke.