Two Ways to Die
by Gary R. Hoffman
"Why? Why did I do it? You've got the guts to stand there and ask me why I did it? Look at this mess! Everyday it's the same thing. I come home from my pressure cooker office, and she tells me what a terrible day she had taking care of the kids, doing the laundry, and cleaning. And then I come in the kitchen to this disaster.
"And where the hell do all these dishes come from? She sure as hell never cooked. Most of the take-out food we survived on had paper plates with it, or we ate right out of the cartons. I think that one casserole dish is from three weeks ago when she made a tuna concoction one weekend.
"She wasn't a house wife. She was just a woman who happened to live here."
"So you weren't married to her?" the cop asked.
The man snickered. "Oh, we had the piece of paper. Not much else."
"Know what happened to that curtain?" the second cop asked.
"Yeah, she grabbed for it and pulled it down after I stabbed her with the fork." He looked at the floor. "One thing about it. If she doesn't die from the stab wounds, she'll probably die of some terrible disease growing on those dirty tines."