Day: July 9, 2017

It was then I realized Roy had murdered his first wife and cared
nothing for his son, Little Jimmy.

I strolled with little Jimmy to the New Haven Green and asked if
he wanted a new Mommy.

“N-Not if Daddy kills her!” he replied.

It was then I thought of cigarettes and contrived a plan.

I married Roy and slowly introduced him to cigarettes.

He smoked a carton a day by our first anniversary.

One day, twenty years later, Little Jimmy returned from Yale.

Roy wheezed as I lit his cigarette.

“Trina!” Roy gasped, “You whore!”

“Shut-up,” I snapped. “Here! I’ll break off the filter!”

“Muthuh!” cried Jimmy, “Leave Fathuh alone or I’ll report you to the Surgeon General!”

“You and what lobby?” I sneered.

However, I was nervous and hastily swallowed the lit evidence.

I asked Jimmy what he had learned at Yale that day.

“Schematics,” he replied.

“Liar…” I grinned. “You were cruising the men’s room in the library.  I slipped into one of your Father’s jackets and wore his aftershave.

I saw who you did in the stalls vile boy!”

Roy chortled and slid face first into his ashtray.

I held a mirror to his lips and caught the ashes of his last breath…

(C) Rob Goldstein 1986-2017 All Rights Reserved