Here's a short story that I had published (the link is after the story, and I have a copy of the magazine if you want to see it in print)

Pearls 2

Jeremie Guy

Things just didn’t seem to be the same anymore. Was she right? Wrong? Who cared anyway? A guilty heart weighs down even the strongest of men.
Sable wasn’t wrong for what she had done. She was just too right. As right as two left feet. She was too much of a woman and too real to be held down by the confines of normal everyday description. You couldn’t classify her with the rest of humanity. That would require too many words. Regardless of how much of a woman she was, she felt guilty.
The orange eye of the sky slowly fell behind the face of the earth and created dazzling purples, oranges, and reds: a genius child’s artwork against an infinite backdrop. Sable sighed a deep sigh from the bottom of her diaphragm and pulled Patrick closer. Ever since they started dating her life had been a wild ride of fun and excitement. She couldn’t help but miss her ex-husband though. Ah yes, the good old days.
Sable let Patrick go and stood to her feet, facing the setting sun. A cool breeze gently invaded her garments and sent a shiver up her spine: the cold fingers of a forbidden lover. Patrick soon slid his hands around her waist and cupped her stomach. It was getting rounder and fuller each day: a pearl in the soft flesh of a clam.
Patrick’s chin came to a rest on his lover’s shoulder and he felt like he had the universe between his palms. Not a care in the world. He had won the war and it felt good.
Sable didn’t feel Patrick’s hands. All she felt was cold: the snake-like guilt slithering through her gut and grasping onto her nerves. She just couldn’t seem to shake the feeling. She wasn’t wrong for what she had done. It was just a mistake. A mistake that no longer could be fixed. It was much too late for repair. Eugene probably wanted to divorce her years ago anyway. That’s why she had to take everything. It was his fault that everything ended the way it did.
The cold continued to encase her body until the warmth of her love failed to serve any purpose. She shivered and decided to take a walk. It was dark now. Or were her eyes closed? The moist ground embraced her feet and offered some relief, but she didn’t accept it. She kept moving, forgetting the earth and floating off into a sea of memories.
A head, distorted and disgustingly white, drifted by: Eugene’s face. These weren’t the currents that Sable wanted to travel, so she paddled her way west, sailing further and further back in the seas of memory.
Music caressed her ears and she smiled. The opera was her favorite and Eugene always treated her to a show for their anniversary. He was a good man. His job was nice and his money was deep: the rain and the fire on the grass of their relationship. The music faded and a black ice solidified over Sable’s body. She wasn’t wrong for what she had done, she just wasn’t right.
The money was the real reason that everything went to hell. Money is the root of all evil, but money makes the world go around. What then can be the expected outcome of the state of the world?
Eugene was a workaholic and it made Sable seethe with envy. Being the woman that she was, she was jealous of everything and anything that came between her and her desires, even if what came in between was the green fuel that powered her world. Nothing else seemed to matter to Eugene. All he did was work work work and more work. He came home, gave her a kiss on the cheek and worked. He even ate his food while working. Though the opera made her happy, and Eugene never failed to take her to the opera on their anniversaries, he would work right through the whole night. Work work work work. Was money that important to him? The answer was obviously yes, and that was why she had to leave.
Things started out slowly at first, but eventually spun out of control. It started with a conversation. Patrick was an ear to fill with problems and Sable had plenty. He was smart. Lend a woman your hand and get a smile in return; lend a woman your money and get her happiness in return; but lend a woman your ears and get her heart in return.
It all started with a simple touch. One little finger to the thigh: a drop of gasoline on an ember. Before long, Sable couldn’t hold back the fires of her passion any longer. She craved the touch of a man that wasn’t thinking about money all the time.
When Patrick and Sable came together they devoured each other. Sable didn’t care that he was a horrible lover. She just needed love. Like a starving man at a cheap buffet, Sable gorged herself until she could take no more. She grew tired of Patrick and there was nothing she could do. Eugene was at least good at what he did before the money came.
Sable crashed back to earth and felt Patrick’s thin excuses for arms around her waste. Her eyes rolled up to the heavens and the black of space consumed her: an oil blanket on the lungs of a baby. She wished she could be free of this man. Patrick. Eugene. Max. Terry. Bill. Christian. Would the list go on? Could the list go on? Should the list go on? She looked over her shoulder and the brightness of the full moon caused Patrick’s eyes to glisten: two green turtle shells hiding a pathetic excuse for masculinity.
Sable had to leave. She wouldn’t be Sable if she didn’t leave somehow. She left her family when she was 12. She left religion when she was 15. She left school when she was 20. She left Eugene when she was 33. She didn’t know how to do anything but leave. Leave with everything important and never look back. The pearl in her belly begged her to stay, but Sable had to be Sable. She wasn’t wrong for what she did. She was merely doing what she did best. Sable removed Patrick’s arms and they flopped to his side. She took a quick glance over his frail body and almost giggled to herself.
Patrick was clueless. Just another seashell on the shores of Sable beach. He expected everything to turn out for the better with Sable, but Sable had to be Sable. Patrick wasn’t worth her time anyway. Was Eugene?
A frigid chill caked over Sable’s heart and she couldn’t help but shiver. She wrapped her arms around the growing pearl in her tummy and whispered a lullaby. She had to find the warmth that her soul craved. Nothing else seemed to matter.

http://scars.tv/cgi-bin/works_e.pl?/home/users/web/b929/us.scars/perl/text-writings/g2181.txt