Courting disaster was her specialty. Cooking her mother-in-law’s special recipe was her medium.
Their lips pressed together like a miracle. She waited her entire life for this. She hasn’t any idea of the nightmare her life is to become.
His sweaty hands clicked the safety. Shaking, they pulled the trigger. Noise. Pain. Silence. Peace for him, but not his wife and children.
Pink dawn and jingling sleigh bells wake her. She sits in bed and waits for footsteps on the stairs. Her gift doesn’t fit under the tree.
His grimy hands are all over my body. I scream, “Don’t do this?” Years later he’s on trial; my mother blind to reality sings his praises.
She could see the pain in his eyes. It was her fault he was in here. There would always be more than bullet proof glass between them.