Archive for October, 2011

Untitled Short

He was sitting in a dark room, cigarette slowing burning in an ashtray beside him. He was never much of a smoker, just like holding them and feeling different. It was really out of disdain for all the health nuts that seemed to be taking over his life.

His mother had just died a few months before, his wife left not six months before that. The darkness around him was complete. It was the middle of the night and the shades were drawn. He hadn’t slept in weeks, a feeling of guilt overwhelming him. He could not pinpoint why. What was wrong with his life?

Why did his wife leave him? Removing his glasses he rubbed his nose roughly and cracked his knuckles.

He had always treated her with kind regard, did all the husbandly things, took out the trash, fixed the broken sinks. Yet there was still something missing.

His legs began to tingle. Sheila always got pins and needles. He stood up to stretch his back and legs.

Wandering over to the chest of drawers, he opened the first drawer, revealing a .38 revolver.

He picked it up, feeling the weight in his hands, it had belonged to his mother. It was the only thing of hers that he had kept. He was surprised to learn that she had a gun. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. As she got on in years, her views became more and more conservative. Almost as if someone was ever so slowly stealing her soul. It sickened him.

Why was he feeling so guilty? His mother died of natural causes, and he knew this. His wife was just ready to move on. They had become two different people. Set in his routines, she couldn’t take it anymore. She wouldn’t be back this time.

He went downstairs and opened the front door, revolver still in hand. The moon was full and the air was crisp. He went to the very middle of his year and looked up, staring down the moon. A slight breeze penetrated his pajama pants, sending a chill up his spine.

He raised the revolver and pulled the trigger.

He went inside and went to bed.

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