We aren’t born with murderous intentions.
Walter’s a good man. He would do anything for those he loves. He’d never hurt a fly.
That’s what I hate the most. I need someone with a spine, someone not afraid to push back and knock me around.
I clutch the ladder until my knuckles go white. In my mind I can see Walter tumbling head first two stories down.
My muscles tense, ready to rip the ladder from under his feet.
“Honey, I don’t really need you to spot me. Can you get my toolkit?”
I relax, my fingers loosen.
“Sure thing.”
Also check out Pint Sized Lit
Wishful thinking has got her in a pickle, perhaps they need an adventurous holiday.
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I worry he might not make it back though! Thanks for reading
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Makes me think of the film A question of silence
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I don’t think I’ve seen it, I’ll have to look for it. Thanks Neil
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One day she’s going to follow through with that thought! Good story.
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Very true! Thanks Iain
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Eek! I am not feeling too good about Walter’s long-term life expectancy here. Fun story.
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Thank you! I’m not to confident in his life expectancy either.
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Nice guys finish… dead.
Try buying Walter an S&M mask and a whip. Maybe he’ll get the hint.
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