Posted in Life and After

Tiny Story: My Dear Wife

My wife was smiling…

Did I mention she never smiles?

May be she did before she met me. I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been sober enough to let that happen.

So when I reached home from the Bar last night…or was it sometime earlier today, not sure since there is no clock nor calendar here…and she opened the door smiling, it didn’t feel right. So I hit her right away to set things straight.

Even that didn’t feel right, so I hit her head against the door frame as an added measure. The satisfaction was immediate.

She was whimpering on the floor now, blocking my way. So I kicked her in the gut to get her out of the way to reach the kitchen.

The food smelled divine. She had cooked my favourite dish. I thought perhaps this’s why the bitch was smiling, because she might get away without a beating that day…today…not sure…

I ate with relish, and woke up here before you, God Almighty.

Now I know why she was smiling.

I will have you write my murder in her record as my only complaint against my dear wife.

Image by Kat J on Unsplash


So many stories are waiting to be told. So I hold my pen and let the stories write themselves. I am an Instructional Designer, avid reader and a small-town woman with a fish-eye perspective.

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