Too Bad, Too Late

She must of stopped my heart when the knife went in: there weren’t much blood when the knife came out again. Years spent doing everything wrong that she ever put her hand to, and finally she does something sorta right. Something I could respect.

I knew there were strength in both her and her no account daughter. Since I moved in, I give ‘em the benefit of my time trying to bring it out. I ain’t an educated man so I don’t have a lot of subtlety to my teaching technique. I did what I could, but she just wouldn’t show me that strength until now.

Even that didn’t last long. Look at her there, collapsed against the kitchen cabinets opposite my corpse. Every time she looks at my eyes, glazing over as they dry out, she breaks out into tears all over again. Too bad, darlin’, you shouldn’t kill the one you love.

The girl’s been standing at the kitchen door. She walks over to my corpse, kneels down, and touches the knife wound. After a moment, she starts uselessly pounding my body with her fists. Too late, missy.

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