This is an excellent piece of fiction depicting Francine's fragile psyche and dark, seething rage that grew in intensity. I found the protagonist was very much akin to serial killers - paranoid, highly intelligent and calculating despite the boiling rage that consumed her. She was also very much someone who enjoyed being in control, relishing the feeling of total power of a Winchester 308 and bringing death to an animal with the pull of a trigger. She certainly had a lot of unresolved anger inside of her - was it due to her baby's death? Also, what I found very distrubing about that particular character was the way she spontaneously shifted her murderous thoughts from her friend to her husband and how she wanted them to suffer. That was a beautiful illustration of her chaotic thought patterns. Finally, the last paragraph, her sipping her Tropicana juice reminded me of Hannibal Lector when he handed the cooked leftover of his victim's brains to a unsuspecting child on an airplane - very chilling scene and displaying absolutely no remorse.
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