No one noticed the new hire repairing the stage lights – except me. On the ladder, his movements appeared suspicious. With a white baseball cap slung low over his eyes, pudgy fingers rotating out burnt light bulbs, this time I sensed a deleterious moment plunging uninterrupted forward.
“Five minutes, show time…places, everyone,” said the director.
As the stage curtain lifted, the new hire appeared in front of me and with fury in his voice said, “You can‘t leave me, Bitch!”
Then, my ex-lover/manager fled without his cap while the audience applauded the realistic scene. Bleeding, I took my last breath.
::: ::: :::
Inspiration: Friday Fictioneers with host Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
Write a one hundred word story that has a beginning, middle and end.
MAKE. EVERY. WORD. COUNT.
Photo Credit: Kent Bonham