Must've Done Something, Right?
by Jerry Ratch
I hope you're happy, she said. Fucker!
Whoa!
Bastard! Fucker!
I backed out the door to keep from feeling a knife square between my shoulder-blades.
And I ran, fast as I could down the street. At last, I was free! Free! This fucker was free at last, as they say.
I hope you rot in hell! I heard her shouting from the front stairs. Fucker! Fucker! Fucker!
That last round sounded like it had at least two or three generations behind it, so I think she had somehow summoned up some wind from the past. I know how many red-faced drinkers there were from her past. They could certainly put some power behind their curses.
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Author's Note
who knows?
Other stories by Jerry Ratch
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Very tight. What I like here, is how you show us that he understands why she is furious and that he both freaked and relieved. That is a complex moment, tightly constructed here with not a word out of place.
Thank you, Meg! Appreciated!