He was a prick. I don't know what else to say. I hated him; loathed him. He made me sick. What the Hell was I thinking when I married him? Was I high or something? What would make me say these things? Well YOU try sitting across from a man who is convinced he knows all, has the best solution to every problem while feeling SO put upon to have to convey these "common sense" strategies to those of us who are... less. My God, I never knew anyone could be so full of themselves. His criticism over every thing and everyone scratched and dug at my brain day and night. Daniel was beyond critical and judgmental. And it always started with the phrase...
"All you have to do is..."
Sure it sounds harmless enough, but in Pavlovian-style, I "learned" that when I heard that phrase, I was about to be corrected, belittled and denounced. Unfortunately, it wasn't just me, I mean when our neighbor, Steve, he's an exterminator, sweet guys really, well, he needed some help getting his daughter Kayla to the same soccer game as our Natalie because he had to take his boy Jon to the doctor's office. Steve's wife, Marla, recently left to be with someone else and he was pretty shaken and shocked. Instead of just taking their daughter, smiling and saying "sure, no problem" ... and you should sit down for this, DANIEL's response was:
Sure, but all you had to do was be a better husband and you wouldn't be lagging behind as a dad right now.
Need me to say it again? Close your mouth. The disdain is already leaking out. Oh, let me reassure you that I was beYOND embarrassed. Mortified? Doesn't even come close! I scooped up Kayla, and told Steve not to worry about a thing. I took her to practice, brought her home and fed her dinner and then made sure her lessons were done. But Daniel? He never lifted a finger. For all his talk, he was lame when it came to the "walkin" part.
Then there was the time Steve treated himself to his first new car. It was a sexy little ride and my husband had to be part of it; told him right off the bat what it was lacking in torque (what the hell is that anyway?!), power, safety... Really made our friend feel like a boob. But he still wanted to take it for a spin. Steve was a sweetheart and tossed him the keys. I guess it just rolled off his back, the way Daniel spoke to him. Wish I could be that strong. Well, when the car was returned there was a nip in it where my husband had clinked a cart corral while running an errand. Steve asked him about it and the reply?
All you have to do is touch it up. In a month you'll have done more damage than this, I mean look at your house, your yard... This? This is NOTHING compared to what someone like YOU will do.
And he stalked off without even offering to pay for it.
I made sure Steve gave me the bill and that I paid him for it to be fixed. I know you can't believe it but it's true.
Oh and then there was Todd at work. Oh good God! He had JUST lost his partner to a battle with cancer and he was struggling to make payments and get things in order. Imagine just trying to adjust to being alone after so many years...almost twenty I think. Well my know-better husband had him in for a performance interview and had the audacity to not give a raise and in fact gave Todd a warning about his progress.
"All you have to do is focus. You have all this free time now so you can better use it by improving yourself, your work ethic and performance. There might be hope for you yet."
Then, to add insult to injury, when Todd's mother needed help, he was a loving son and took her in to take care of her, his work hours at the factory were cut because he was deemed unreliable and lacking in dedication. A man who didn't really know how to roll up his sleeves and work hard.
With our kids? If the grade was a "B", why not an "A"? All you have to do.... If it was an "A", why not higher? All you have to do is...
So that was how our lives went. It wasn't too long after Todd left the company that I noticed Daniel was slower getting out of bed. He began to cough and there were a couple of seizures. I asked him to go to the doctor to be checked out.
"All I have to do is..." and I quit listening or suggesting. He knew he could do better than those quacks with their co-pays and unnecessary tests. I knew I should have just kept my mouth shut. What's the use with a man like that? But he got worse. He lost weight, becoming so very pail and fatigued. I tried again; even had Steve say something but he blew us off and picked up the herbal supplements. When the blood showed up in his urine he said it was a kidney stone and stopped eating or drinking calcium. When he coughed pink in the sink, he said it was lingering congestion, took some more Musinex and stayed in the shower longer. His breathing became labored. He became a shadow of the man he was.
Finally, he succumbed to the poison. Steve told me it would take a little while. Fipronil takes time. But he kissed me sweetly and told me to be patient. The time would come. When it did, the kids put the pillow over his face that night. I was going to do it but they each wanted a crack at him. Todd? Well, he didn't want any part of it but just sent me a real nice "Thank you" note.
All I had to do was wait.
Please feel free to come to his services. There will be a whale of a party afterward.
Wednesday, August 19, 2015
Monday, August 3, 2015
Goodnight Kiss
There they were scampering down the aisle, smiling so wide and brightly, the sun had a tough time getting noticed except for people to be glad it shone for their special day.
"Forever" he'd said.
"I love you" she'd sighed.
The photographer took millions of pictures to remind them always, of this moment, this love and who was witness to it all.
That night was better than they had ever known. Her skin never tasted sweeter. His body never felt better and they got tangled up time after time as they eagerly touched, kissed and whispered and then collapsed in a passionate exhaustion. He caressed her glistening body, gently put his mouth to hers in a long, tender goodnight kiss. It brought tears to her eyes and she smiled right into his soul.
Five years zoomed by and they struggled having kids but at last were blessed with a precious girl and a set of twin boys; all of whom had unique issues. It was stressful to say the least. He worked his fingers to the bone and she stayed home and did the exact same with doctors and school and then she had a little side business to bring in a little extra. Eight years had zipped by before he noticed her body had changed. She looked tired and some days didn't even wear lipstick. It was harder to find her hot spots when they finally collapsed into bed; exhausted, he could still rev her engine and she loved it though she often playfully swatted him away. Then there was that little giggle that told him he was about to be made a very happy man. It was quick because that was all they had time for and they sighed in each others arms, drifted off to sleep after he gave her a goodnight kiss.
He guessed it was when the kids were older, maybe in middle school? Eh. What did it matter? She'd gotten lazy. She'd quit her job and sat around a lot. It showed in her body and when he tried to chase her to bed she swatted him and it hurt. The giggles were few and far between and almost always directed AT him for something stupid he'd done. But night after night, he would drag himself to bed and mumble g'night and kiss her cheek. She would smile dryly and pucker at the air.
He didn't mean to find someone new but it happened and he wasn't all THAT sorry. She called him and said things so sexy he thought he'd explode right there on the phone. She sent pictures of her lingerie and told him constantly how much she wanted him, needed him. Once she even showed up at the restaurant where he and his family were dining. She walked passed his table and stopped. "Ooops you dropped your napkin, Sir" and then went on her way. When he looked in his lap it was a pair of her panties. He almost lost control. The affair was just what he needed to feel like a man again; loved, desired, sexy ... he was her first consideration and last desire each day. He covered it up with work and trips and the usual things. His wife just kept moving through their life; never changing, not trying and letting it all go. Yet even after spending the night exploring another woman's most intimate parts and reaching ecstasy beyond description, he crawled into bed next to his wife and muttered "goodnight" tossing a dry kissy sound into the room, not even bothering to look and see if she had been crying, or noticing that the weight was coming off, or hearing that she had a new job and the kids were improving.
No, he hungered for this new life, new love. He didn't want to be burdened with the old stuff. The kids were always gone with friends or out for classes and his wife? Well, she was a ghost anyway.
So it made sense that he decided to kill her.
He took her old bottle of sleeping pills that he hadn't noticed she'd stopped using more than a year ago and he put all of them in her favorite wine... anything in a bottle...and for the first time in years sat down to dinner; watching and listening. But of course, not for anything other than slurring words and heavy eyelids. As the meds took over, he slipped his hand around her waist and guided her up the stairs of their not so fairy tale castle. He unbuttoned her shirt and tugged it over her shoulders, helped her step out of her skirt that he'd not seen before and laid her down on their soft bed. He stood above her and brushed her hair from her damp brow and kissed her softly on the mouth for the last time.
She was buried after "an accidental overdose" was seen the cause and stamped on a piece of paper that he pretended to despise. He cried when he was supposed to and hugged those he should. Then he accepted the condolences and in the months that followed, slowly began to introduce people to his new life. It worked perfectly.
It was his girlfriend's last night in her apartment; she was celebrating with her friends. He accepted this and thought it was cute. He ordered himself some dinner and opened a bottle of wine. He drank heavily and toasted himself regularly throughout the meal enjoying the dirty little texts she sent him. Drunk and horny, he stumbled to bed where he passed out.
The moon rudely woke him to tell him he had to pee. He grumbled and staggered to the bathroom. He heard footsteps down in the house and perked up; hoping his little love bunny had decided to sneak in and fulfill a couple of her promises from earlier in the evening. When he called to her, nothing. So he wandered around and listened to the night and the darkness in the house. Disappointed he was alone he frumped and belched and headed back to bed. He slid into the blankets and closed his eyes drifting back into a drunken sleep. He sniffed and winced at a stale smell that tickled his nose. Must have been the dog taking a whiz on the rug again. He frowned and stretched. He recoiled at the touch of something freezing cold and gooey at the foot of his bed. He gasped and got tangled up in the blankets. There was movement, swift and powerful right next to him as his rotting dead wife rolled over and pinned him to the mattress. Her eyes were dark holes filled with mud and rot. Her mouth split open as she giggled and in a watery voice filled with contempt said sweetly:
"I missed my goodnight kiss"
It brought tears to his eyes as she swallowed his soul....
Well hello there! I just thought I'd dally in what's called flash fiction. Hope you enjoyed it. Nothing like a quickie to get the goosebumps to scurry across your arms... Thanks for coming over. I enjoyed your visit.
"Forever" he'd said.
"I love you" she'd sighed.
The photographer took millions of pictures to remind them always, of this moment, this love and who was witness to it all.
That night was better than they had ever known. Her skin never tasted sweeter. His body never felt better and they got tangled up time after time as they eagerly touched, kissed and whispered and then collapsed in a passionate exhaustion. He caressed her glistening body, gently put his mouth to hers in a long, tender goodnight kiss. It brought tears to her eyes and she smiled right into his soul.
Five years zoomed by and they struggled having kids but at last were blessed with a precious girl and a set of twin boys; all of whom had unique issues. It was stressful to say the least. He worked his fingers to the bone and she stayed home and did the exact same with doctors and school and then she had a little side business to bring in a little extra. Eight years had zipped by before he noticed her body had changed. She looked tired and some days didn't even wear lipstick. It was harder to find her hot spots when they finally collapsed into bed; exhausted, he could still rev her engine and she loved it though she often playfully swatted him away. Then there was that little giggle that told him he was about to be made a very happy man. It was quick because that was all they had time for and they sighed in each others arms, drifted off to sleep after he gave her a goodnight kiss.
He guessed it was when the kids were older, maybe in middle school? Eh. What did it matter? She'd gotten lazy. She'd quit her job and sat around a lot. It showed in her body and when he tried to chase her to bed she swatted him and it hurt. The giggles were few and far between and almost always directed AT him for something stupid he'd done. But night after night, he would drag himself to bed and mumble g'night and kiss her cheek. She would smile dryly and pucker at the air.
He didn't mean to find someone new but it happened and he wasn't all THAT sorry. She called him and said things so sexy he thought he'd explode right there on the phone. She sent pictures of her lingerie and told him constantly how much she wanted him, needed him. Once she even showed up at the restaurant where he and his family were dining. She walked passed his table and stopped. "Ooops you dropped your napkin, Sir" and then went on her way. When he looked in his lap it was a pair of her panties. He almost lost control. The affair was just what he needed to feel like a man again; loved, desired, sexy ... he was her first consideration and last desire each day. He covered it up with work and trips and the usual things. His wife just kept moving through their life; never changing, not trying and letting it all go. Yet even after spending the night exploring another woman's most intimate parts and reaching ecstasy beyond description, he crawled into bed next to his wife and muttered "goodnight" tossing a dry kissy sound into the room, not even bothering to look and see if she had been crying, or noticing that the weight was coming off, or hearing that she had a new job and the kids were improving.
No, he hungered for this new life, new love. He didn't want to be burdened with the old stuff. The kids were always gone with friends or out for classes and his wife? Well, she was a ghost anyway.
So it made sense that he decided to kill her.
He took her old bottle of sleeping pills that he hadn't noticed she'd stopped using more than a year ago and he put all of them in her favorite wine... anything in a bottle...and for the first time in years sat down to dinner; watching and listening. But of course, not for anything other than slurring words and heavy eyelids. As the meds took over, he slipped his hand around her waist and guided her up the stairs of their not so fairy tale castle. He unbuttoned her shirt and tugged it over her shoulders, helped her step out of her skirt that he'd not seen before and laid her down on their soft bed. He stood above her and brushed her hair from her damp brow and kissed her softly on the mouth for the last time.
She was buried after "an accidental overdose" was seen the cause and stamped on a piece of paper that he pretended to despise. He cried when he was supposed to and hugged those he should. Then he accepted the condolences and in the months that followed, slowly began to introduce people to his new life. It worked perfectly.
It was his girlfriend's last night in her apartment; she was celebrating with her friends. He accepted this and thought it was cute. He ordered himself some dinner and opened a bottle of wine. He drank heavily and toasted himself regularly throughout the meal enjoying the dirty little texts she sent him. Drunk and horny, he stumbled to bed where he passed out.
The moon rudely woke him to tell him he had to pee. He grumbled and staggered to the bathroom. He heard footsteps down in the house and perked up; hoping his little love bunny had decided to sneak in and fulfill a couple of her promises from earlier in the evening. When he called to her, nothing. So he wandered around and listened to the night and the darkness in the house. Disappointed he was alone he frumped and belched and headed back to bed. He slid into the blankets and closed his eyes drifting back into a drunken sleep. He sniffed and winced at a stale smell that tickled his nose. Must have been the dog taking a whiz on the rug again. He frowned and stretched. He recoiled at the touch of something freezing cold and gooey at the foot of his bed. He gasped and got tangled up in the blankets. There was movement, swift and powerful right next to him as his rotting dead wife rolled over and pinned him to the mattress. Her eyes were dark holes filled with mud and rot. Her mouth split open as she giggled and in a watery voice filled with contempt said sweetly:
"I missed my goodnight kiss"
It brought tears to his eyes as she swallowed his soul....
Well hello there! I just thought I'd dally in what's called flash fiction. Hope you enjoyed it. Nothing like a quickie to get the goosebumps to scurry across your arms... Thanks for coming over. I enjoyed your visit.
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