He had destroyed their family, splitting it into three broken pieces never to mend again: her, himself and their son.
So, she had to break his body into three pieces as well, exactly three.
They would never find him.
Albeit Granny wouldn’t have approved this specific use, she taught her how to make booze out of anything organic.
Come funeral there would be nothing of him in the coffin.
But in the brandy that she’d be serving to his friends and to his mistress.
Give her a very last taste of him and the sweet taste of revenge to herself.
(To a good friend)
Another Friday Fictioneers Edition, check out what it is right here.
Friday Fictioneers 100 Wortgeschichten, hier steht worum es geht.
„The government issued new rules, we need to make our old town handicapped accessible.”
“And we have to follow these rules?”
“Only if we don’t want to pay back all the subsidies”
“That is a tragedy, we can’t pay them back and we can’t afford wheelchair ramps”
“You don’t worry, I fixed this already.”
“You do work miracles, my friend?”
“Just provided evidence that in medieval times handicapped people where carried by barrows with mules in front.”
“And they accepted this?”
“Sure, it’s part of our cultural heritage, and therefore protected. They are even paying subsidies for the mule drivers now.”
Friday Fictioneers: Share 100 wor stories with great people
„All houses must be down before the day is over? Time is money, guys! ”
The words of the foreman still resonated in his head.
“New era coming, and a new complex, all glass and concrete. Neat, clean and profitable.”
Tearing down buildings was not new to him, nor to anyone in construction business.
“The insurance company needs space.”
One house was left to dismantle, standing in front of number 34 he looked at the entrance.
Impossible! Turning around he knew he would need a new job.
It wouldn’t change the fate of the house for the better, but maybe himself.
This one might need a little explanation, since few people know this portion of history: While most of German town centers did suffer serious damage through bomb attacks in WW2, a significant portion of the “art nouveau” houses that survived, felt victim to the construction boom driven by banks and insurance companies, that owned the properties and wanted to establish fancy headquarters. Luckily most German downtowns are still vivid living quarters nevertheless.
„Peters dad has a pond now!“
“It is full of Koi.”
“That’s one useless fish!”
“Daddy, I need to have Koi too.”
“Fish are meant for the meat,”
“or for the fight,”
“but not for the looks,”
“We need to have them!”
“if you like ugly looks, that is.”
“I have seen it.”
“Spend a fortune on a fish.”
“in the morning they come,”
“In Kyoto, maybe!”
“the mist still over the water.”
“but Michigan, of all places.”
“they are so …. important”
“What for, my son?”
“Without’em the heron will have no breakfast.”
(My sincere apologies to all my Japanese friends and Michiganders)
Finally his flat was empty. Almost empty! Only his old keyboard was left, lying there in pieces. Same as with his great love to Ruth. In both cases it was up to him to either mend it or finish it.
He always avoided the black or white view. For a balanced position he needed to play both, the white and the black keys. Now it was time for a decisive call. He could see it for the keyboard: put the pieces back together and play again.
One decision was all he could master, the other one would be taken for him.
There is still one thing to enjoy: Reading those forty year old newspapers.
Mostly I watch the colorful pictures in the Ads section, with bins full of perfect fruits or copious meat and cheese selections. Adorable!
In reminiscence of those better times I sometimes read the text, like the article about stray shopping carts creating dents in vehicles!
Might have been a reasonable concern, those days when supermarkets still were selling, there where places to go to with a car and your kids actually had a future.
If they only had thought of climate change as a reasonable concern too.
(100 words, apologies for the pessimistic outlook to our worlds future, but you fictioneers will agree that there is no point in arguing with the emotions a picture creates. Thanks to you for the warm welcome and feedback)