|main menu | youngsters categories | authors | new stories | search | links | settings | author tools|
|A Bottle of Wine (standard:drama, 561 words)|
|Author: kendall thomas||Added: Dec 13 2000||Views/Reads: 2442/1||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|A man has a strange, recurring dream.|
A Bottle of Wine ~No good deed ever goes unpunished~ * * * Max sat up suddenly in bed. “What’s the matter, honey?” his wife asked sleepily. “I had that same dream again,” Max groaned. “I’m watching TV when I doze off and I’m awakened by a knock at the door. When I open the door it’s the police with a warrant to arrest me for murder.” “Well, honey, I wouldn’t let it bother me,” his wife said. “It’s probably just a problem your having with your job and your subconscious is merely trying to work it out. Or maybe it’s something you ate that’s bothering you.” “Maybe,” Max shrugged, but he wasn’t convinced. It seemed too real. It was almost as if instead of a dream he had been peering into the future. But it was absurd. There was no one he wanted to kill. A few people at work he didn”t particularly care to be around, but no one he couldn’t tolerate. In fact, he was happy with his job and life in general. Perhaps if his wife were cheating on him..., but he knew she would never do that. * Uneventful days came and went. Max went to work at eight and came home at five, ate supper, then, as was his habit, stretched out on the sofa to watch an endless series of sporting events until he would nod off. And each time he did, the dream would return to assail him. It was infuriating, distressing. There was no logic to it...no rhyme or reason. The dream was the only blight on his otherwise smoothly running existence. Yet there seemed to be no solution. Perhaps, he thought one day--at the end of his mental rope, he should consult a phychiatrist, but the idea made him feel uncomfortable. It would be like admitting that he had a mental problem, and he would never do that. What if it were to get out that he’d seen a shrink? People--friends--would shun him like the plague. Think him odd. No. He would tough it out. The dreams couldn’t go on forever. He wouldn’t give in! * One day, on his way home, he stopped at a corner store to buy a bottle of wine. As he picked up the last bottle of his favorite vintage left on the rack, he noticed a woman standing close by eyeing the same bottle. He smiled and handed it to her with a nod. His good deed for the day. That night Max dozed off on the sofa again and was suddenly awakened by a loud pounding on the door. Only this time it wasn’t a dream, for it went on after he was awake. When he opened the door he was confronted by the police who told him that they had a warrant for his arrest on the charge of murder. Max’s wife, aroused from her sleep, was almost hysterical. Max was astounded--numbed. “But it’s not possible,” he protested. “There must be some mistake.” “No mistake, buddy,” a tough-looking cop said. “We found your prints all over a bottle of wine lying in a pool of blood next to the body of a Miss Dora Pritchard at 3133 Oak St. She’d been bludgeoned to death. We ran the prints and--bingo!--came up with a perfect match from a DUI you incurred several years ago.” ~Will Tweet
Authors appreciate feedback!
Please vote, and write to the authors to tell them what you liked or didn't like about the story!
kendall thomas has 88 active stories on this site.
Profile for kendall thomas , incl. all stories
For a quick, anonymous response to the author of this story, type
a message below. It will be sent to the author by email.