A great read from Robert Goldstein, flash fiction. M

Art by Rob Goldstein

It was then I realized Roy had murdered his first wife and cared
nothing for his son, Little Jimmy.

I strolled with little Jimmy to the New Haven Green and asked if
he wanted a new Mommy.

“N-Not if Daddy kills her!” he replied.

It was then I thought of cigarettes and contrived a plan.

I married Roy and slowly introduced him to cigarettes.

He smoked a carton a day by our first anniversary.

One day, twenty years later, Little Jimmy returned from Yale.

Roy wheezed as I lit his cigarette.

“Trina!” Roy gasped, “You whore!”

“Shut-up,” I snapped. “Here! I’ll break off the filter!”

“Muthuh!” cried Jimmy, “Leave Fathuh alone or I’ll report you to the Surgeon General!”

“You and what lobby?” I sneered.

However, I was nervous and hastily swallowed the lit evidence.

I asked Jimmy what he had learned at Yale that day.

“Schematics,” he replied.

“Liar…”…

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