Mom potted plants on the back porch. She invited me out. She said the pots were beautiful. She said the sun had set. She said there was nothing to fear. She said it was cooling off with approaching evening. The web of deceit was so artfully weaved, and so well cast. Little I did I know: SHE WAS PLOTTING FOR THE INSURANCE MONEY!!!!!!!!
I opened the back door. I stepped out into the open air. Indeed the pots were beautiful. Indeed the sun had set. But I had MUCH to fear. It was NOT cooling off. I clutched at my throat, I gasped for breath, the fire of the furious inferno of the desert surrounded me, striking at me from every side, tearing at me, as it it were a living thing and intended to rip out my lungs by the bronchial tubes.
Should you not hear from me again, you will know why. And please, if she asks, SIGN NO CHECKS!!!!!
To be continued (and to be brought back safely from the very edge of the cliff).
JUST saying... Told you so.
ReplyDeleteBah ha! The edge of the cliff :) This was fantastic to come home to read! Also, if the author may or may not have died by the hands of his wife in the desert...How is he going to come back and finish the story? Unless it is a poetic narrative from beyond the grave!
ReplyDeleteDon't worry, dad will definetly be haunting us from beyond the grave when his time comes. I love your writing dad, I had a blast reading this :) I was wondering how you were going to survive the heat.
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