A gleaming blade to greet my busted ass.
Posted by B on October 5, 2009
I came home at near dawn. When I quietly stepped through the door, I noticed no night light in the bedroom. Lynn always plugged it in when she went to bed just in case one of us needed to get up and take care of the baby, but no light was on and I knew she knew and was waiting for me. I didn’t think she was about to try what she did, but I knew she was lying in wait, like a viper.
I called her name softly as I headed for the refridgerator to get a beer. No answer. I opened the fridge and the light inside caught a speckle and glimmer from the gleam of the blade in her hand. Without really hurting her, I took her to the wall and took the kitchen knife out of her hand. In the commotion, Britianny started crying, but she went un answered for a short bit as the accusations flied and I did not deny, what an idiot. The only thing I did deny was who she was, and that created another rotten but humorous story in a sick way.
The next morning, Lynn told me to never see or talk to or look at her again and never, ever bring this up again. In maturity, she is much like me in those matters now that I know how it feels and unfolds. Kudos to Lynn.
The mega sleeping pill just went down with about 7 other pills, 2 vallium and 5 hydrocodone so I’ll be gone soon, I apparently haven’t grown that much, other than my views against infidelity. And those are kind of loose in the right situation. Next, is when Lynn realized the knife didn’t scare me into faithfullness so she went bigger and then even bigger again. Kitchen knives are one thing but .45 caliber pistols are another.
