Jacques threw the noose over the fortified beam he had recently secured there, down in the garage, beneath the living room, where his wife was contentedly watching a movie.
He placed the stool carefully under the noose and stepped up onto it to check for accuracy.
He stepped down to empty the change from his pockets. He had a thing for change. Liked the feel of the weight in his right hand front pants pocket.
He placed it all neatly on the card table he had put in place two days ago. Stacked the coins carefully. Nickels on nickels, quarters on quarters, dimes on dimes.
$6.35.
Jacques wrote a note: "Buy ice cream for the neighborhood kids." Placed the note next to the coins.
He smiled in appreciation at the orderly work he had done, the generous thought reflected in the note he would leave behind.
Jacques stepped up on the stool, slipped the noose around his neck and kicked the stool out from under him.
Against all odds, the look on his face in death was one of peace.
For the first time in his life.
No comments:
Post a Comment