Sally the Serial Sorry Sayer

For the very first time in such a long time Sally-the-serial-sorry-sayer found insincerity in her routine saying: “sorry”. During the seven years shared with Steve in the suburb of Saxonwold, sentences usually started with her uttering her winning slogan: “I’m sorry”, and sometimes, “I’m so so sorry Stevie.”

As per usual, saying sorry typically slipped out of Sally’s hung-over face the next morning she and her faithful Steve had a squabble which lead to her smoking a spliff on the street corner then storming off to the pub –with Steve seven minutes in tow. When at the bar, in full view of spectators, Sally would cause a scene while an embarrassed Steve stared at Sally in disappointment. Unashamedly and just to stir up anger inside Steve, Sally seductively swayed her hips, flirted and stroked the side, stomach and groin of any single or taken man who showed interest in Sally. After all their years of marriage, Sally’s habitual stunts didn’t make Steve envious, or even sad – instead, this was generally Steve’s cue to climb back into his silver sedan and drive up Jan Smuts, right back to Saxonwold.

For the last seven years, both Steven and Sally knew that her uttering a meagre apology in that annoying soprano voice of hers, accompanied by her very best soft sorrowful eyes, would be satisfactory enough for Steve to feel sorry for his little Sally; and sympathetically respond with giving her a squeeze so hard it made her think he was trying to suffocate her.

Slithering back into their sunlit garden, subconsciously Sally-the-serial-sorry-sayer knew that on this particular Sunday morning, saying sorry to her forgiving spouse would not suffice for her spiteful actions last night. Guilt-stricken with vague memories of Saturday evening, Sally softly closed the front door behind her, stumbled in the hallway and shouted for Steve to come down from his study for a serious sit-down. Swollen in the face from last night’s endeavours, Sally felt ashamed that she let things slip out of hand the way in which they did. The words “I am sorry” could hardly justify spreading her legs for a complete stranger while Steve lay fast asleep in the master bedroom.

As Steve stepped downstairs with a serious expression on his face, Sally felt a surreal bout of sadness overwhelm her body. Tears slowly seeped from her hideous face as her sober spouse stared down at her from the spiral staircase. Surprised to see his wife sob for the first time since the suicide of her sister six years prior, Steve could only but spread his arms and smother Sally. As she rested in his warm soft embrace, a strange sensation had sporadically come over her body which forced her – this time – to squeeze the life out of Steve. As Steve squealed and searched for air, Sally continued to suffocate and strangle him until he lay spiritless on the hard floor surface.

Like a serpent out of shallow still waters, Sally looked down at her lifeless spouse, and just like that – without any control over what came out of her mouth – stuttered her favourite saying, “I’m sorry.”