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Murder by Imagination By R.S. Aldrich

Perhaps I am going crazy? Wouldn't be the first time in my life that I've wanted to murder her. I believe that this time I can make it happen. I'm so miserable with her in my life. Brody sat frozen in his creaky old chair and contemplated his inner voice that was once again beckoning him to once and for all rid himself of his nagging wife. She'll be coming home from the store any moment now. I don't have too much time to dicker here! These mental movies keep playing in my head; the result of years and years of nagging, nit-picking, and posessiveness. They're so real and so frighteningly disgusting to me. Brody sat in his den staring at his bookshelve trying to lend his objective reasoning to the compulsive rage stirring in his mind. It was as if the demon inside him was offering him a way out of his miserable stagnant existance with his bitch of a wife. This time, I'm listening. I hear you loud and clear ole boy in there; yep I have finally decided that she must go. When she walks in, I'll confront her in the hallway by the front door. I am gonna give that bitch the business tonite yes sirree. Strangling her is going to feel way too damn good! I'm going to wring her scrawny, whiny, bitchy little neck until she's a pale purple. I think the first thing I'm going to do is bite her nose right off and just watch her reaction as I stand there with it wedged between my teeth. Wait a second; she'll see her nose has been bitten off and immediately go into shock. Maybe that's not such a good plan. Perhaps I'll first ram my knuckles into her windpipe with every ounce of strength in me. I'll crush it real good for her. I could choke her right then and there, I mean she has had this coming for a very long time now. The scariest way for me to off her would be to crush her windpipe and follow up immediately with two fingers jammed in her eyes. Yes indeed, jammed in with all my might. Maybe I won't immediately strangle her. T'would be nice to stand there and watch her thwapping away at her throat as she slowly suffocates. I am delighted at that thought. Yep, this is it ladies nd gentleman, finito. Brody slid across his desk and pulled out his .38 special with a look of great relief if anything at all. After she's dead I must do away with myself or face life in prison. I wouldn't last two days in prison brody sighed; they'd eat me for dinner. I'm 46 and healthy to boot said Brody to himself. Am I really ready to die? It'd be worth it to be rid of my nagging wife, Brody's inner demon was reasoning. Suddenly Brody heard a car door slam and at once his heart began fluttering and his throat felt swollen with fright. As his wife began walking up the steps Brody Stanton froze with fear; unable to do little else except grip the seat of his chair with his hands. The hands that beleived they were ready for murder. Doris Stanton entered the front door and immediately Brody was unble to move. I thought I asked you to get dinner started?, Doris questioned her husband interrogatively. Brody leaned back in his chair and opened up the little bag his wife had placed before him. In that bag were his antipsychotic meds that he's been out of almost one whole week. Doris strolled into the living room with a cool clear glass of water and reminded her husband that he needed to take his meds; because "he's been acting weird lately". Brody downed his pills in one eager watersliding gulp. Indeed, I've been feeling those feelings again Brody related to his wife. As Doris walked back into the kitchen to put away the groceries, Brody looked up into the void and whispered "maybe next time okay pal?" maybe just next time.


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by visceralengineer

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