Daily Prompt · Random Scribbles · writing

Daily Prompt: Showdown at Big Sky

Showdown at Big Sky

How do you handle conflict? Boldly and directly? Or, do you prefer a more subtle approach?


“I don’t want to discuss this anymore and I’m not going to fight with you” Roger said, “I’ve got to get ready for work.” He went into the bath and closed the door. She heard the shower start up and begin to run.

She sat on the edge of the bed. Roger was such an ass. This was his standard play when they quarreled. He simply would not argue. He would quit and assume that his will prevailed. She hated him for that. She knew he would come out of the bath all showered and shaved, smelling good; and pretend that nothing had happened. She hated him for that too. She would let him do it, she always did. She hated herself for that.

Not this time, she thought. You’re not getting off that easy this time. She stood, moved around the bed and opened Roger’s bedside table drawer. There it sat, Roger’s pistol. A 22 caliber handgun that was small and lightweight. It felt good in her hand. She checked it was loaded and flicked the safety off.

The curtain was drawn across the shower but she could see the shadow Roger cast as he washed his hair. That was another thing she hated. Roger had more lotions, pomades, and balms for his hair than any man had a right to. He was very vain about his hair. Slipping out of her nightdress she held the pistol behind her back and moved the curtain aside. She stepped into the shower. Roger saw her and smiled. He did not see the 22.

“You’re right Roger,” she said, “I don’t want to argue either. I’m sorry.” He reached for her as she pointed the pistol at his eye and squeezed the trigger. The bullet must have ricocheted around in his skull – no exit wound. He dropped. She looked at him and blinked. Not as noisy as she had anticipated. Not too messy either. She grabbed the shower head and rinsed the bit of gore off her right hand and forearm, placed it back and got out of the shower. She set the piece on the back of the toilet while she toweled off and put her nightclothes back on. She peeked behind the curtain into the shower. Roger lay still on the shower floor. The running shower sluiced what little blood there was down the drain. She would let it run for a while, easy cleanup.



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