The Lonely Lover: A Short Story: The Lonely Lover

I can’t explain the feeling. It is unlike anything I’ve felt before. When I saw her with another man, I simply wanted to kill her. The actual thought was there to take her life right then. What kind of justice would that have been though? Who did I think I was; just kill her right then? Is it normal to feel that way? Is it ok to be so devastated that you want to kill the woman that you love, and loved? We met at a local joint called The Lonely Lover. It was a dive, with real grease on the walls, and a slickness on the floor that made one feel as if they were constantly slipping. I liked it here. I felt as though this is where I belonged. I was born to be the guy that everyone knew from the Lonely Lover. I came here just to see the kind of

Everest. I knew this long legged, blond headed, bright lipped woman would be my undoing, but I wanted to be undone. In more ways than she knew. She sat down next to me at the beat up, sticky bar and ordered a bottle of Tequila. No salt, no lime and no shot glass. She just wanted the liquid fire. She talked like she had a fire in her belly. She wasn’t going to be held back by no man! Not today, and not ever. He would never touch her again she said! Sounded so familiar. Old Mange just looked at me and shook his head as he walked away with a terd eatin grin. He knew she caught my interest. I didn’t want her to know though. It always ends bad when you try too hard. I just smiled back at Mange and ordered another stale beer. I have found action here at the Lonely Lover before, but not like this classy woman. She had to have money, and a penchant for bad

He walked up to the bar, with that “I’m about to take this bitch home look.” You know the look! That same one, that that same guy had all through high school. It never failed. This kind of guy thought he was the cock in the hen pen, even if today the hen pen was a dump instead of high school. Or are the two the same? Who knows. All I know is that this jack wagon wasn’t going to be the jock to take my date this time. Thump! I broke a bottle over the loser’s head! There was no one here but Mange, the classy chick and myself. So no one would know what was about to take place. Mange grabbed the guy’s legs and pulled him to the back room, where we tied his neck to a post and his hands, we took a hammer and busted them to pieces! He would have no use for them when we got done. As we walked back out, she was just letting the wooden door of the shitter close. In the quiet of the bar it sounded like a gun shot. The music was off, the lights were turned down low and the mood was set. She was mine now. At first I couldn’t understand how she could have looked at another man. Why could she not see that I was the one she had come for. I was the cock in the hen pen now, and I was going to crow! Her eyes were wide as she saw me stare at her. She didn’t understand that she was so close to being done with men for good. That I was about to give her everything she had come to the Lonely Lover to find. A way out of her marriage and the SOB she was