Monday, April 9, 2012

Hell Hath No Fury

Susan was smiling when she walked in the door. 

It was always nice to get off work early, especially when her husband was home for the day as well. She thought they might go out for dinner and then come home and have a romantic evening in front of the fireplace.

She was still smiling when she started up the stairs.

Dinner at Ricardo’s and a stop at the market for some after dinner wine were on her mind when she got to the top of the landing. A giggle followed by a groan caught Susan’s attention about the time she got to the bedroom.

Susan was no longer smiling when she opened her bedroom door.

Her husband was on top of a woman who looked vaguely familiar, thrusting for all he was worth. The woman was writhing underneath him in a position Susan was sure had to hurt.

Susan was crying when she slowly backed out of the room.

Tiptoeing down the hall, she went into her husband’s den, found the key in his top desk drawer, and opened the gun cabinet. She pulled out her daddy’s old shotgun and loaded two shells. 

Susan was smiling again when she walked back into the bedroom she had shared with her husband for ten years.

“Hello, Dear,” she said to get their attention. When both her husband and the woman, who were sitting up together now, turned, Susan readied the gun and shot. 

Susan smiled as she watched the bodies slide off the bed and onto the floor.

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