Lie to Me

Stacy knew Jacob was leaving. She didn’t know when, but she knew it was inevitable. 

He’d been leaving too many clues.

She also knew why he was leaving. She knew, but there was nothing she could do about it. She didn’t know how you could make someone love you again.

If she could only go back to last month, she would do things differently. She never would have gone to the gym that day, and she definitely wouldn’t have gone home with the new dance instructor. 

A fight with Jacob was the excuse she had used to convince herself it was ok. At the time, it was easy to talk herself into trying something new. Now, she hated herself, almost as much as Jacob hated her.

Each morning when Jacob left for work, Stacy silently prayed that he would return that evening. She had been the perfect wife since the incident, but she knew it wasn’t helping. You really can’t take some things back, she realized. But she also knew that some couples got past indiscretions. 

She just didn’t believe Jacob knew how to do that. 

When the alarm clock signaled it was time for Jacob to get up, it was all Stacy could do not to reach for him. Instead, she lay and watched him get dressed. Something in his movements and lack of eye contact put her on edge.

At the door, Jacob started to say something, but Stacy stopped him. She could tell from the sadness in his eyes that the time had come, and instead of hearing him say it, she whispered, “Lie to me,” and softly kissed him goodbye.

Kill Me Quietly

Sharon watched the man as he pulled his pants down. She screamed on the inside, but not a sound escaped into the house. 

“You enjoying the show?” he asked and ran the tip of his finger down her cheek. 

“Yes,” Sharon whispered. Anything to keep him focused on her and as quiet as possible. She couldn’t bear the thought of her children seeing anything that was about to happen.

The man finished undressing, folded his clothes neatly and laid them on the dresser. Sharon just wanted him to hurry, but it looked like he was into taking his time. She only hoped he was finished before the children woke up.

When he was finally going at it, the man started talking. Sharon couldn’t have that so she kissed him, deeply and passionately. This only excited him more and he finished quickly.

“You’re a surprise,” he informed her as he was dressing. “I’m going to hate killing you. I’d much rather come back for another visit.”

Sharon blanched. She never thought about him killing her, especially if she cooperated. A sound from down the hall caught her attention and she turned to the man who now held a knife.

“Please kill me quietly,” she begged.

Just Desserts

Here is my story for this week's Three Word Wednesday prompt. We're also on the letter J for the A to Z blogging Challenge.


Despite the draft coming in around all the windows and doors, Jason had never felt such serenity in a place before. Now he understood why his mother kept telling him he should visit the lake house. He only wished he’d done it sooner and brought her with him before her death.


After all, if it took him this long to locate, and his family had been coming here for years, it would have taken the authorities even longer, giving him more time to form a get-away plan.

The way things were now, it might be the lake house was his resting place and his mother would have the last laugh anyway.

In the Blink of an Eye

You never know what you have until it’s gone.

Beverly had always thought that expression was ridiculous for people like her. She had never taken her loved ones for granted, always told them she loved them and made sure to spend time with them. 

Now she knew different.

No matter how much time you have, it’s never enough. After it’s over, you always want one more minute, one more hug, one more smile. One more…

The realization that you’ll never see someone you love again makes you think of all the things you wished you’d said or done, even if you thought you’d said and done it all. Because you never can. 

There is never enough time to say everything you want, and need, to say. 

And when you’d been with a person for fifty years, and could still say there were things left unsaid, then Beverly knew that expression was not ridiculous after all.

Every minute of every day, she thought of Charles. He was there with her when she brushed her teeth, reminding her to floss. He was at the kitchen table when she had a cup of coffee, reaching for the sports section of the paper. He was on the couch beside her in the evening watching a favorite show. He was in the bed each night, snoring.

Each moment Beverly started to say something to him and the pain would pour in anew. Those same things that used to drive her crazy now brought a wistful smile to her face. She wished he were there so she could argue with him over something stupid, pick up his dirty socks off the floor, and laugh at his politics.

She wished he were there to talk to period.

She still couldn’t believe it was real. It had been three weeks, but it felt like minutes. He was there one minute, and then, in the blink of an eye, he was gone. Vanished. Taken by some random act of violence. 

The police said he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. That the drive by shooting could not have been predicted. 

Beverly knew all this, but it didn’t help. Even knowing the guys in the car had been killed the next night by a rival gang didn’t help. None of it brought Charles back.

And if she heard one more person say time healed and things would get better, she just might shoot them herself. 

Time wouldn’t bring Charles back. Time wouldn’t let her feel his arms around her again. Time wouldn’t bring his smile, his laugh, his love back to her. 

You never know what you have until it’s gone…

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.

Get the Job Done

Bert would be glad when this job was over. He had never liked killing women, anyway, and with this particular woman, it was even harder.

He couldn’t imagine what she had done to tick his boss off bad enough to warrant killing her. But it wasn’t his place to ask why. He was just the messenger.

When the woman walked out of the church, Bert followed. He crossed himself as he passed the gilded doors of St. Anthony’s. Not that he thought it would do much good, he hadn’t been to confession in twenty years, but he sure as hell would need to go after this job.

He followed the woman through the garden gate behind the church. When he opened the rusted gate, the woman turned in surprise. 

“Hello, my child, what can I do for you?” she asked.

“Forgive me, Sister, for what I’m about to do.”