New Stories for February 2nd, 2016
On the way home
From our son’s graduation
Everything we took for granted was lost
25 years of expectations and sure, entitlement
Changed with one small defect in the asphalt
That gathered rain a little too hungrily and kept it a little too selfishly
The overcast day and the way the
Slope hid it
The tire hit it
And we spun
Look at us now
My beautiful wife only growing in grace
As the years marched on in their inevitable pace
I see how the scars will be written on your face
You hold my hand tight
He stood in the shadows assessing his target. He had been following them all day in hopes of getting a clear shot at her, his most challenging assignment to date, the woman with the rose tattoo.
This was the opportunity he had been patiently waiting for. They were sitting outside, in the not yet warm spring air in a spot of sunshine, that ironically, she insisted on, when no one else in their right might wanted to sit outside in such cold weather. All he needed was for her to lean in towards her companion just a bit…“Come on buddy, say something interesting,” he thought to himself. Her companion opened his mouth and her head turned toward him. It was now or never.
As he sighted his weapon, he slowly breathed out, letting his body relax as he prepared to take the shot. She began to lean forward, when suddenly, she looked up and recoiled away. The shot missed its target and flew off into the woods behind them, flushing out a flock of small songbirds. Startled by the sound, they both stared off into the woods and then scanned the perimeter. They weren’t certain what they had heard, but she knew something was not right and wasted no time getting out of there, and out of sight. He had missed his shot and lost his opportunity.
He stalked away, disgusted and frustrated. He was the best. He didn’t miss. There was only one thing to do now.