by E.A. McBride
Flash Fiction Contest - 300 words!
|Dan Harrell sat at his kitchen table, slamming his glass down after he guzzled the final drink. His other hand tightly clenched a letter from his Wife, Sara. In between each drink of whiskey, he read a couple of lines from the letter. Every word was a dagger being shoved into his abdomen, twisting and turning with each sentence. Initially, his heart felt heavy in his chest, but after each drink his heart hardened and his blood furiously pumped through his veins.
“Don’t try to find me?!” he slurred.
Another fit of rage overwhelmed him as he threw the empty glass against the wall, shattering it into a thousand pieces. He crumbled the letter, fighting back tears that needed to be released. As the glass fell to the floor, he realized that was another mess he would have to clean up. His life had become a series of shattered glass needing picked up. But why clean the mess when you can just grab a new glass?
That’s exactly what he had been doing to Sara the last several years. He would stumble home just before dawn, and when she confronted him, he would kick over the television or throw a lamp against the wall while threatening to bash her head in. The next morning would arrive and he would apologize and promise to stop.
Rinse, wash, repeat.
He staggered to his bedroom and opened the drawer that held his pistol. Unforgiving images surfaced to the front of his mind as a weight began to lift off his shoulders. As he reached for the gun, he saw Sara’s face amongst his mental images, he shut the drawer and grabbed his wallet, pulling out an AA card he had kept for months. Tomorrow would be the day, he finally promised himself.