Solitaire
November 1994, by Tony Nitz

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        They think I killed her.  I didn't.  I'm just glad she's dead.  Her incessant nagging and complaining and attempts at manipulation was driving me insane.  I screamed at her in public; threatened her publicly.  The anger and hatred in my eyes was evidence of my sincerity.
        After the argument, I went home, alone.   I left her at the party, surrounded by her friends who all must think the worst of me.  It doesn't matter, though.  The opinions of people you do not respect are irrelevant.  I packed to leave; intending only to escape for a short time.  I would go to my mining cabin in the high desert.  A couple of weeks alone would renew me, allowing me to tolerate her existence for awhile longer.
        A couple hours outside of town I realized I had forgotten my rifle.  I didn't really need it for protection, but popping varmints can be an entertaining means of passing time.  So I turned back home.
        At home, I found her dead.  She had been shot in the mouth with my rifle.  I'd love to shake the person's hand who did it, but unfortunately all the evidence points to me.  I had to leave for good.
        I grabbed everything I thought I could use that I could fit in my truck.  Many of these last minute items were just junk, but I wasn't thinking too clearly.  I emptied our dresser drawers and the kitchen drawers into pillow cases.  I grabbed all the dry and canned food.  I took all my guns and ammo.
        It's been nearly two month's and I haven't seen or heard from anyone.  This cabin is built on public land, without a mining claim.  No one knows of it, not even her.  I'm alone, and safe.
        Some of the junk I discovered I had brought included her make-up and some fragrance spray.  I hate make-up.  I keep these things around because they remind me how I hated her.  They make me feel satisfied that I'm happier here alone than I was there with her.
        After reading my only book for the eighth time, I pull out a tattered deck of 51 playing cards.  Solitaire seems more challenging with only three aces.


copyright November 1994 | Tony A. Nitz  | all rights reserved | Revised:  Friday, 18 February 2005 20:19 +0500