PAST PRESENT FUTURE
By John D. Brooke
“Today is your significant once a year day, so I got you a special present for your birthday present. Let’s think of the future and forget the past.” Martha announced and handed Oscar his macho wrapped present in deadly Black Mamba snakeskin tied with rawhide bows and a note that said: “To Oscar, my October born Eagle Scorpio, may you soon fly in my memory for eternity, Martha.“
Oscar was startled to get the wonderfully wrapped present, especially after the injuries he had given her from his last drunken beating. He held it to his ear to shake it.
“I wouldn’t do that, it might upset the delicate things inside.”
Being a brute, he ignored her. “Whoopee!” he grunted and gave it a vicious shake, a graphic expression of his nasty disposition. Held it to his ear. “Something rustled in there!”
“Open your present. A rare surprise waits inside for my birthday boy!”
Oscar savaged the wrappings and tore open the cover. Instantaneously two giant carbon black scorpions lashed out their toxic stingers. His hands were paralyzed immediately. He screamed in agony and fearfully stared into Martha’s two blackened eyes. She didn’t move a finger to help. The deadly venom coursed through his body and cut short his shriek.
The last thing Oscar saw and heard as he drew his final agonizing breath was Martha. She slipped on a pair of thick leather gauntlets, grabbed a conveniently placed long handled mallet and neatly squashed the scorpions to death.
The Black Mamba skin transformed into a stylish purse. Martha was in a sanguine mood and tunefully sang the Happy Birthday song. She didn’t hear Oscar’s death rattle as she dialed 911.
- - -
John D. Brooke, is an expatriate Canadian lives by the Sea of Cortes in Baja California Sur, Mexico. Formerly a senior advertising scribbler, now an emerging writer of poetry, flash fiction, novels, and screenplays.
By John D. Brooke
“Today is your significant once a year day, so I got you a special present for your birthday present. Let’s think of the future and forget the past.” Martha announced and handed Oscar his macho wrapped present in deadly Black Mamba snakeskin tied with rawhide bows and a note that said: “To Oscar, my October born Eagle Scorpio, may you soon fly in my memory for eternity, Martha.“
Oscar was startled to get the wonderfully wrapped present, especially after the injuries he had given her from his last drunken beating. He held it to his ear to shake it.
“I wouldn’t do that, it might upset the delicate things inside.”
Being a brute, he ignored her. “Whoopee!” he grunted and gave it a vicious shake, a graphic expression of his nasty disposition. Held it to his ear. “Something rustled in there!”
“Open your present. A rare surprise waits inside for my birthday boy!”
Oscar savaged the wrappings and tore open the cover. Instantaneously two giant carbon black scorpions lashed out their toxic stingers. His hands were paralyzed immediately. He screamed in agony and fearfully stared into Martha’s two blackened eyes. She didn’t move a finger to help. The deadly venom coursed through his body and cut short his shriek.
The last thing Oscar saw and heard as he drew his final agonizing breath was Martha. She slipped on a pair of thick leather gauntlets, grabbed a conveniently placed long handled mallet and neatly squashed the scorpions to death.
The Black Mamba skin transformed into a stylish purse. Martha was in a sanguine mood and tunefully sang the Happy Birthday song. She didn’t hear Oscar’s death rattle as she dialed 911.
- - -
John D. Brooke, is an expatriate Canadian lives by the Sea of Cortes in Baja California Sur, Mexico. Formerly a senior advertising scribbler, now an emerging writer of poetry, flash fiction, novels, and screenplays.
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