Short stories



He stood with one hand on the doorknob, his suitcase in the other. He looked down the hall to where Christy stood in her white nightgown, holding onto the doorframe of their bedroom.

"So this is really it," he said.

"I guess it is," she replied.

"I never thought, that after 22 years it would end like this."

Christy just shook her head, her eyes glistened with tears.

"I'm sorry about the the drugs," he said, "I wanted to stop, I really did."

"And I'm sorry I kept bringing 'em home," she replied, "I knew you'd find them, but I kept buying it anyway."

Jimmy looked down at the expensive rug which lined the hallway. "And I'm really sorry about pushing you down the stairs," his voice was a whisper, "I was so angry...

" Her shoulders shrugged under the nightgown. "And I'm sorry I shot you," she said, "I was just so pissed..."

Now it was his turn to shrug. "It's healing up nicely," he said touching his shoulder. "But you were right to be angry honey. I never should've poisoned your cat. I really am so sorry."

Christy shook her head. "Don't be, it was an annoying cat anyway." She paused and stared down the long hall. "And I wish I'd never blown up your car ..."

"Ahhh," he replied, "I got out in time, no real harm done."

She sighed and shook her head. "Well I never should've told your boss you were embezzling..."

"Hey," Jimmy said, "he was bound to find out sooner or later!" and he gave her a small grin. "And honey, I wish to God I hadn't sold the children..."

"Yeah well," she sighed, "I wish you hadn't either, but none of 'em were really yours anyway."


She nodded. "Jimmy junior was really your partner Jake's, Will belonged to a cable installer, and I forget who Alice came from."

"Thank you,' he said with genuine emotion, "I appreciate your telling me that." He shook his head. "And I suppose I should've told you that I was screwing Anne Marie."

She laughed then. "Not to mention Linda, Diane, Betty Sue and the rest of the bridge club! But don't worry about that," she smiled, "Anne Marie told me all about it, in graphic detail."


Christy nodded. "We've been lovers for 6 years now."

He didn't say a word, just looked at her with a bemused smile. "You always were a wild one," he said at last.

"No wilder than you!" she chuckled, "You were the one who got me into armed robbery in the first place!"

"Yup," he grinned, "but you were always the real brains behind the operation!"

She cocked her head and grinned at him. "But you were the one who actually bought the thermo-nuclear device," she said grinning at the memory, "all I did was suggest it."

"Yeah," said Jimmy, "but I never would've had the guts to set it off in the Citicorp building..."

She laughed. "It was a hell of a boom wasn't it?" she asked, her eyes alight.

"It sure as hell was!" he said. "But blaming it on the Cubans, now that was a stroke of genius!"

"Why thank you sir," she said with a small curtsey. "Castro sure was surprised when the government retaliated, wasn't he?"

Jimmy stopped and stared at her. "We were a helluva team," he whispered.

She nodded, and a tear rolled down one cheek. "That we were Jimmy boy," she said softly.

"Christy?" his voice was husky.

"Yes?" "Maybe we're making a big mistake here..."

"Are we?"

He nodded, "I really think so. Good God honey, we've always wanted to get into white slavery, " he saw her eyes brighten, "or set fire to the United Nations! We've talked about that for years!"

"Yes," she said slowly, "that we have."

He paused and looked at her, "What do you say babe, how bout one big final blast? You and me, together?"

She stared at him before she answered. "What the hell," she said with a grin, "There's enough napalm and C-4 in the van to really make a night of it!"

He strode quickly down the hall and swept her into his arms. "You know what doll?" he grinned, "We belong together!"

She smiled and pulled him tightly against her as she pulled an ice pick from the long sleeve of her nighty.

Copyright 1998 by Luther Conant III

  Write to Luther at Tell him what you think, what you know, how you feel, or what made you feel like writing.
All images, text, animations,and music 2000 By Luther C. Conant III (unless where otherwise noted.)