“Let’s see.” He mumbled, searching through the bag. “Flashlight, Magnifying glass, noir hat.”
Everything looked good, all the things his son needed for their school detective play. It stretched the budget to its breaking point, with that harpy taking nearly everything in the divorce. Still, it was for the kid, and that made him feel like he was walking on rainbows.
What had it been about the two of them? It had to have been some sort of animal magnetism, since neither one of them could be considered good-looking. That one evening, near the heather, flowers weighed down by the bees collecting pollen.
He shook his head, sadly. What did it matter? She had felt the key to her future was to leave him. He grimaced, turned in the chair and firmly planted his cane; pushing himself to his prosthetic feet. A decorated war veteran, barely able to scratch a living together for himself, with even less to set aside for his son.
The bulb over the kitchen table flickered, popped, and went out, leaving his already dim apartment in near blackness. He sat back down, feeling the waves of harsh emotion cresting over his darkened heart. Everything…gone.
He reached under the table, to where his old service weapon was securely strapped and pulled the weapon free. What was a life worth? She had sucked him dry of value. What he was living, could it even be called a life?
His boy valued him though. He slowly put the weapon away. Another battle fought, another battle won.
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