The Legs of the Matter – Curse #0209

Posted on January 19, 2011


She found herself downtown, guided by the conventions of mass transportation.  Her husband, the scoundrel, had taken the car that morning. She was making her way to the hardware store to purchase a sledge hammer, nails, rope, and plastic wrap.  On her inventory of items she had a title: Home Renovations.

While her husband had made the day difficult, she was grateful for small favors. For example, the bus had left her at a park and she now took a moment to assess her surroundings.  She admired the statues there, paying particular attention to their legs. It occurred to her that she could not account for how the legs ever came to the decision to commit to the rest of the statue.  And what a commitment, she thought, having to bear all that weight, forced to listen to the statue’s needs and nag and nag and what’s for dinner and I don’t like that and we should turn the third bedroom into a den and it’s a simple renovation, you can handle it, we don’t need a contractor and on and on and on.

She scolded herself. Nearly noon already, my how the day flies, she thought.  And then she made the commitment to murder her husband that evening.