Let It Go

M. Stanley Bubien

"You done it. I say it's done with!" Fingering warm steel, I grasped my husband's shaking hand. "You can't take it back. Let it go."

He still trembled, but he'd lost some of that clamminess. Finally!

"There, there," I began, but sounded a little too much like the doting wife. "Ah. You'll be fine."

He sniffed and wiped his nose. "Yeah, uhm," he stammered. "It's like, uhm. Like spilled milk."

I swear, I almost laughed. Spilled milk! Man, what a dolt! 'Course, I'd never say that to his face. "That's it," I agreed.

He remained silent, but he'd stopped shaking.

"Alright," I lifted the magnum. "When I drive over, you toss this in the river. Think you can do that?"

He reached for the barrel and nodded.

For Steven Meincke.

Copyright ©2001 M. Stanley Bubien. All Rights Reserved.

Please contact the editor for free text versions of this very short story formatted for e-mail, usenet news, or ftp.

Story Bytes

Subscribe

April, 2001 Issue #60

128 Words

Feedback