the Unending Journey of the Wandering Author

A chronicle of the unending journey of the Wandering Author through life, with notes and observations made along the way. My readers should be aware I will not censor comments that disagree with me, but I do refuse to display comment spam or pointless, obscene rants. Humans may contact me at thewanderingauthor at yahoo dot com - I'll reply as I am able.

Name:
Location: New England, United States

I have always known I was meant to write, even when I was too young to know the word 'author'. When I learned that books were printed, I developed an interest in that as well. And I have always been a wanderer, at least in my mind. It's not the worst trait in an author. For more, read my writing; every author illuminates their heart and soul on the pages they write upon.

Wednesday, April 25, 2007

The Best Revenge

Maxwell smiled grimly as he climbed the steep track. He was panting a little before he spotted the ancient cabin, but he wasn't in bad shape for a man who'd retired ten years before. He'd left the force, yes, but a few of his cases hadn't left him.

He'd never forget the blood spattering that college girl's apartment. He worked so hard to find the killer it destroyed his marriage. When he succeeded, the man escaped prosecution on a technicality. Maxwell hadn't delivered justice then, and he'd needed ten years to find his quarry again, but today he would close that case.

He stepped out of the pines, opened the door, and darted inside. A dank, musty reek choked him. His Colt heavy in his hand, he turned slowly to study the fallen curtain. He glared at the rusty cans by the sink. He'd been so sure this was the end of the trail.

A board creaked, and he whirled to face a massive heap of quivering, panting flesh. A shotgun sagged in the man's hand. Maxwell quickly twisted it away.

The man squinted. When he thrust his head forward to peer into Maxwell's face, his breath stank worse than he did.

"Maxwell? Is that you? I thought...." He broke off, wheezing helplessly.

"I was going to shoot you. But I've changed my mind."

The man whimpered.

Maxwell stepped back outside. "Of course, I might change it again." He started down the path, whistling. Death was too good for him.

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4 Comments:

Anonymous wolfbaby said...

ahhha... gotta like the justice in that..

April 25, 2007 12:36 PM  
Blogger DBA Lehane said...

It's hard enough judging a competition, but I'm guessing it'd be harder to decide which of these 3 to enter! Another wonderful piece of flash...and inspiring too!

April 26, 2007 2:20 AM  
Blogger suzanabrams said...

This reminds me of a Lehane classic.
Very well written.

April 26, 2007 9:51 PM  
Blogger The Wandering Author said...

Thanks, wolfbaby, Lehane. And, yes, it was hard making up my mind. I have no idea which one would be most likely to win; I just chose my personal favourite.

Susan, I'm overwhelmed. I've gotten so many very meaningful compliments on these stories. Thank you.

April 27, 2007 3:50 PM  

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