Simple Something

He comes home with the smell of whiskey accompanying. He comes home to where he’s no longer welcome. He come to his separated wife’s house. He speaks with rage, volume and profanity. She is courteous and seemingly submissive. She speaks without weight and subtly urges him to leave. She is ever mindful of a line she has drawn, an if and then scenario that leads to dark place she’d rather not go.

He takes offense and offensive measures. She speaks with civility but her eyes betray something cold and capable. She walks down the uncanny valley towards unfeeling automation and the walking dead. She breathes slowly and deliberately. She’s leaving her body and something simple is coming, something that can do what needs to be done. The woman becomes a knife.

He shouldn’t drink. He shouldn’t have screamed at her. He definitely shouldn’t have hit her. Somewhere between the .38 he holds and the threat against her child, he makes his last mistake, he threatens the wrong person. The thing inside the woman stomps on his foot and grabs the wrist of the offending hand. It tears at his flesh with sharp nails. His hold fails and the gun drops to the floor. With a left cross to the jaw he stumbles backwards mumbling curses.

It picks up the gun and levels the bevel to it’s eye. He pleas for her to remember the good time and the good intentions he always has. She’s not there and she barely remembers anyways. It pulls the trigger and repeats thrice. The man lays dying, anesthetized by Jack he feels no pain but only impotent sad wonder at his last moments. He could not perceive that his wife just ended him. He decides it was a drunken dream and promptly dies.

She comes back to a bloody mess and sirens. She drops the gun on the floor and goes to soothe the child. The police take her soon and she is processed. He was loud, she was quiet. He was angry, she was scared. The gun was his but the baby was hers. The charges are dropped almost before they are filed. She spends the rest of her life fearful of a cold and capable simple something.

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