Deadly Consequences

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
A short piece of Flash Fiction producing 'Deadly Consequences' for all.

Submitted: April 14, 2008

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Submitted: April 14, 2008

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Deadly Consequences

By Gerard Lebel

 

 

Rosalie stood at a broken and battered, rectangular table in the rear of the Starshine Laundromat in a seedy section of town, meticulously folding her laundry. Her shiny, dyed, jet black hair had an undertone of dark, iridescent blue, reflecting from the filtered sunlight streaming through the grimy side window. The sheen bounced off her hair onto the pristine white towel she folded in fours as she added it to the soft, plump stack of cotton bath sheets.

“It’s funny how we seem to meet like this the last few Tuesday mornings at the Starshine,” chattered Rosalie with a broad, friendly smile as she began placing her folded linens and clothing in her laundry basket.

“I guess we both have dirty laundry,” replied the straight-faced, stranger with a whiff of sarcasm.

“I guess we do,” muttered Rosalie, momentarily feeling a tad uncomfortable and thankful she was finished and ready to go. “Well, that does it for me… the table is all yours”

“Clay.”

“Excuse me?” queried Rosalie.

“Clay… My name is Clay. That’s what you were about to ask me, wasn’t it?” replied the tall, dark-skinned, beefy stranger.

“Well, actually I…”

“Rosalie. Your name is Rosalie, isn‘t it?” he said cutting her off in mid-sentence.

“Yes, it is… How do you know my name? Have we met before?”

“No… we’ve never officially met,” he smiled. “I overheard you here last week on your cell phone. You left a message saying something like… ‘Michael, this is Rosalie. I think it’s best if we don’t see each other anymore. I will leave your clean laundry in the hallway outside of my apartment door. You can pick it up whenever.’ Do you remember?”

Rosalie was now blushing with embarrassment as Clay continued. Inching closer to her he noticed a puffy, purplish bruise high on her left cheekbone.

“Yes, of course I remember leaving the message. I didn’t realize anyone could hear me though. This is all rather embarrassing!”

“Did he do that to you? Did he hit you in the face?”

Lifting the laundry basket, Rosalie said, “Listen, I really have to go…”

Clay grabbed for her arm as the earsplitting clang of tin bells could be heard swinging from the front door as it flew open, delivering a wild-eyed, angry young man.

“Michael, what are you doing here,” shouted Rosalie.

“So, is this where you meet him, Rosalie? “Every Tuesday like clockwork you come down here to this skanky dive at 10 am to meet him,” shouted Michael.

“What are you talking about,” yelled Rosalie.

“I just met her today,“ Clay said. And what if she did meet me here on Tuesdays… what’s it to you?”

“What’s it to me?… WHAT’S IT TO ME?…

Michael reached abruptly into his jacket pocket as he moved forward and withdrew a small revolver, pointing it straight ahead at Rosalie and Clay.

“I told you there would be deadly consequences if you ever cheated on me, Rosalie. I told you… I TOLD YOU,” Michael cried. “You knew it would come to this.”

Streaks of tears ran down Rosalie’s cheeks. “But I didn’t cheat on you, Michael… I love you… I swear, I didn’t cheat on you!”

 

“It doesn’t really matter anymore, Rosalie. This is the only way I can be sure of having your heart forever.” Michael repeatedly pulled the trigger, emptying the cartridge, riddling Rosalie and Clay with bullets as he shoved the gun in his mouth, pulling the trigger one final time.

© Copyright 2008 Gerard Lebel
All rights reserved

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


© Copyright 2017 gerabel. All rights reserved.

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