If Thoughts Could Kill

Angelina allowed herself a small snicker as the focus of her ire came down for breakfast. God I hate him, she thought. Look at that idiot. Little does he know that I am going to kill him next week. I can’t stand the sight of him.    

“Good morning, dear,” Ravi said as he poured himself a cup of coffee. “How did you sleep last night?” I wish she died in her sleep. That would make everything easier, he thought. I HAVE to kill her next week. He sat down at the table opposite her.    

Angelina handed Ravi the half-and-half. “Fine. And you?” Ravi blew on the surface of his coffee, a habit that Angelina found extremely annoying, and took one sip. Blood began to drip from his nostrils. As he reached up to touch his face foam began to pour out of his mouth. He looked at Angelina with those narrow beady eyes as his head hit the table with a thud. Then his head rolled off the table, across the kitchen floor and into the dog’s dish where Peppy, the greyhound, began to lick his face.    

“Like a baby.” Ravi grabbed the bagel knife and reaching across the table, stabbed Angelina’s hand, pinning it to the table. Pulling a pistol from the back of his waistband, he shot Angelina between the eyes. He smiled as the back of her head blew out like a smashed watermelon. Blood spouted out the top of her head and down onto the flannel nightgown that he hated. “Do you have plans this weekend?”    

“No, not really.” Angelina poured another cup of coffee. Yes, you bastard, Angelina thought. While you’re banging your slutty mistress across town, I have to buy some antifreeze for your coffee. Then I have to stop off at the gun shop and pick up the pistol that has been on hold while my background check is in progress. I also want to find your old hunting knife.    

“Me neither.” Ravi sipped his coffee. I wish I had a slutty mistress across town so I could spend the day banging her while you waste money on another facial. He finished his coffee and stood up. “Well, I am going to get dressed and do some yard work.”    

“You do that, dear. I think I’ll go into town and get a facial.” What an idiot. He is worth millions but wears the same pair of underwear for years. I can’t wait to kill him.    

“Have fun. Pick up something for dinner.” As Ravi walked out of the kitchen, the kitchen exploded in a ball of fire. Apparently, someone left the gas on in the oven.    

“Ciao,” answered Angelina. As Ravi reached the top of the stairs, the top step gave way. He grabbed the railing and that also gave way. He fell over the side and landed on his head in the living room. His eyes were open and glued to the TV. The thought of it made Angelina smile.    

“Angie, I can’t find my lucky underwear.” What a bitch. I bet she threw them out.    

“I threw them out, dear. I’ll buy you some new ones while I’m in town.” I gotta kill him next week.   Ravi shook his head. I have gotta kill her next week.


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