Seattle
Ian Hunter scanned the job list for what felt like the billionth time. His wife Tara was making them both something to eat from behind the bar separating the living room from the kitchen in their tiny apartment on the 132nd floor. She tried to stay the calm one, as always, while Ian was obviously about to explode. She glanced up every so often to gauge his boiling point. “This is &^#$#&* ridiculous!” He finally burst out. “Every damn week it’s the same old, piece of shit jobs!” Ian slammed the coffee table with his fist, shattering the table’s touch screen. He stood up with his hands on his head and took a deep breath.
Ian knew this was the same kind of behavior that caused Tara to ask for a separation earlier that year. He waited for his adrenaline to recede before opening his mouth again. “Sorry,” he offered. “I just have to find something soon, you know?” Tara remained quiet. Ian made an attempt to pet the cat, who ran back into the bedroom. Ian grabbed his jacket off the couch and headed for the door. “The salmon’s almost done,” Tara said. “I’m gonna take a walk, I’ll warm it up when I get back. Just need some air.” Ian said. Tara knew exactly where he was going and it wasn’t for air. Ian had been drinking heavier lately, being unemployed was a major trigger for his alcohol problem. It was a vicious cycle. Unemployment led to depression, depression to more drinking... which led to worse things. It all seemed to conspire to make to finding a job next to impossible. Above all that, he didn’t want to lose Tara.
