It Was A Cold and Rainy Night

It was a cold and rainy night. It was a hell of a night to be out walking, but she had no choice. The wet evening gown clung to her skin like death on a corpse. The woman frowned as she leaned into the driving rain, her breath forming little clouds as she searched the horizon for the nearest town or telephone. The cold, dense fog made the task nearly impossible. The wind whipped around her legs, chilling her body to the bone. She cursed as she silently rehearsed her alibi, over, and over again, wishing there was another way to break the news to her husband.

She thought back to the events of the evening. It was his fault – it was always his fault, but this time he’d gone too far. Tonight was her tenth wedding anniversary – it should’ve been a special occasion – and it was, until he showed up at the bar. The woman thought about the gun she’d left in her Mercedes. It was a Walther .32 pistol, a James Bond pistol, and an anniversary gift from her husband. A pistol for ladies! She cursed again as her heel snagged a rock, twisting her ankle. “Damn him!” she muttered, now wishing like hell she had brought the pistol with her.