1390. Bull's eye
© Bruce Goodman 29 August 2018

When Esther attended the night school rifle shooting classes over a six week period, it was for one specific reason: she wanted to shoot her husband. Dead. None of this hanky-panky lovey-dovey nonsense that many murderers espoused. No! She wanted it to be fast and clean. And accurate.

She took the night school classes because quite frankly she didn’t have a clue how to fire a gun of any sort. The aim was to grow in confidence; to become familiar with the firearm; and to have the wherewithal as to how to use it.

Her husband, or more particularly her ex-husband, suffered from schizophrenia. He was so bad that Esther had joked (only to herself of course) that she would need more than one bullet in the gun to kill all his different personalities. True, he was the father of her only child, a son called Steve. Steve would visit Esther quite often, but he would have nothing to do with his father. His father was present at his conception, but apart from that he’d played a very minor part in Steve’s upbringing. Anyway, with the schizophrenia it was very difficult to know which personality was his true father – so to speak.

Esther’s night classes had finished. She loaded the gun. She waited in the sitting room. The door opened. She shot the gun. Bull’s eye! Dead as a door nail.

It was just a pity it was her son’s fiancée.

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