2 comments

  1. Ke11y

    Richard was my friend. I can say that frankly and honestly, even though he cared little for the social graces we lean against when considering the stature of good men. Murder, however, you must understand, was a constant thought in the life of Mrs. Richard. A thought that occurred with monotonous regularity. It was always the ‘how’ that caused her to stumble from that happily considered notion. So, for many years, Mrs. Richard amused herself with inventive and intuitive ideas on how to end her husband’s life. She rarely spoke about her adventures into murderous thoughts, except to say something like, “I’ll kill him…so help me.” Not exactly ambiguous, but always laughed at by those of us who knew them.

    Ten years or so I knew Richard and in that time, he became the legend of stories and folklore. You see, that was it with Richard; you could not dislike the man. Impossible, unless, of course, you happened to be married to him.

    But look, I’m a writer; I can’t be trusted to tell the truth. I could continue, maybe you’d enjoy Richard as much as I have done this past twenty minutes. The truth is, I’m just a writer writing. I’m also the owner of a vivid imagination. Meaning my first sentence may not be true. This fact is borne out by my uncanny knack of inventing a lie for all and every occasion. At the time of writing I wish I could invent another, but, and as I’ve been told countless times, the truth always catches up with you.

    Oh well, the idea has hit a brick wall. I’ll come back tomorrow. Maybe Richard will inspire me, or Mrs. Richard will do me a favor, so I don’t have to work at it too long.

    1. mcullen Post author

      Love this, Kelly. It’s like watching your mind turn this way and that, like a chickadee pecking here, turning its head, and pecking there, searching. . . searching. Today’s prompt (#254) might be the perfect next line . . . you never know~

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