In Less Than An Hour

In Less Than An Hour

Oozing out on the floor is a thin line of saliva from her mouth.  She is oh so still and motionless.  No movement at all.  Fear grips him like a vice that is being drawn tighter and tighter with each and every turn of the handle.  His palms are wet and very cold.  His heart races like a car in the Indy 500s.  He has finally done it!  He has choked her to death.

He has known for years that it would all end up like this.  She just did not know when to quit.  When to back off and simply leave him alone.  And, now, she has made him choke the life out of her just to get her to shut up.  It did not have to end like this, but she did not know when to just back off and leave him alone.

It all started out so innocently.  He came home from work, ready for a cool beer, a little television, and a quiet evening at home.  And, then it started.  She started nagging.  Well, she wasn't really nagging, but it felt like it because she wanted him to keep the kids so that she could go out with her girls.  She just wanted to get out of the house and hang out for an hour or two.  But, that was just like her.  No respect for all that he did for her.  After all, he was the one that went to work every day and brought home the bacon.  He was the man of the house.

Now, she lay stretched out on the floor staring aimlessly at nothing.  That thin line of saliva just oozing from her mouth.  Suddenly, he felt that he needed to wipe it away and tell her to wake up.  He was tired of her just lying there sleeping on the floor.  But, he just could not bring himself to touch her.  He knew she would be getting cold.  How long had he been sitting there after he released his death hold on her throat?  He didn't know because he had lost all sense of time.  He was just there.  Time and place had stopped.

Somewhere in his mind, he knew that he had committed an awful crime, but he could not connect with it.  His only thought, walking through the door of his home, was that cold beer, a little television, and a quiet evening at home.  He had never gotten his beer, and now the television was smashed from throwing her into it when she got in his face.  He never meant to hurt her.  Just shut her up, and now that small line of saliva has grown to a puddle on the floor.

He had wanted a quiet evening at home.  Now, that sound that only absolute quiet makes is so deafening inside of his mind.  At this very moment, he would cherish some noise, even hearing her go on and on about her day and the need to go out with the girls.  Feeling the icy cold of his hands and the dead silence of the house, his mind races to how he had gotten on the floor.

The last thing he remembered was her saying that she was tired of being stuck in the house all day with the girls, and couldn't he just watch them for once.  What made him snap this time, and why wasn't he able to stop.  He had always been able to stop before, but this was different.  Somewhere long ago, he had decided to kill her, and it had just taken him this long to do it.

She had gotten what she deserved, and he was through with her.  She hadn't been that good of a wife any way.  Now, he could get the right wife for his children, and move on with his life.  Stop.  "What am I thinking?", he thought.  I have just killed my wife, the mother of my children.  Her body is waxing cold on the floor with that thin line of saliva pooling next to her.

How could all of this happen in just one hour.  An hour ago, he was kidding with the guys about going home to his cold beer, a little television, and a quiet home.  Nothing could have prepared him for what he had just done.  He had killed his wife of twenty years in a fit of rage that lasted less than an hour.