Wilma, Chapter Three.

Posted: August 24, 2015 in Horror, Literature, Short Stories
Tags: , , , , , ,

Hiring Colin from an entrepreneurial perspective was like winning the lottery. That boy was a workhorse, hell he worked harder than me most days and I’m no pooch-screwer. He was motivated, always keeping busy, be it watering the flowers or sweeping the floors. He gave the place a strange kind of glow. Until his arrival Wilma’s had become a red bricked nexus on the downtown strip, but he brightened the place up, cleansing its dreariness.
I have to admit I was a little upset he was only able to work on weekends and I truly believe he felt the same way, if it were up to him I‘m positive he would have never left the shop. That’s part of the issue with custody, the child almost never gets to have a say. So often that which we wish to protect we inevitably destroy.
I couldn’t complain too much though, I’m a man who believes in being thankful for what he’s been given and despite him only working weekends he did wonders for Wilma’s. After a couple of months there were customers inside Wilma’s again and business was improving. I was beginning to think I was wrong about my ex-wife leaving me with a curse.
How age can make a fool out of you, playing tricks on your mind, making memories a distant haze of foggy events that morph ceaselessly. It enfeebles your senses and instincts, forcing you to make choices you never would have made in your youth.
Not letting go of Wilma was the second biggest mistake I ever made, after she left I was destroyed, emotionally crippled. Despite her absence I always felt as though she was somehow still around me, as though she was living within the walls of that damned store, I always thought it was just my minds way of coping with her loss, but she was there, she never left. I think it was Colin’s positive nature that awakened her, that brought her back from whatever hell she’d been living in. Don’t misunderstand me, I hated the bitch, marrying her was the first big mistake I made in my life, I guess when she left I felt as though I was cheated, she made me suffer for so long that I thought I’d never be free of her, then like the coming of nightfall she left because of a Spanish flower. The destruction and emotional instability came from my hatred for her, and I think, not unalike Colin’s positive attitude that my hatred also played a part in her return.
There I go again, getting ahead of myself, jumping face first into the shit-hurricane. It’s kind of hard not to when it comes to Wilma, she was, well, she was the kind of woman who isn’t easily forgotten. The kind of woman who carried a chip on her shoulder for anyone who didn’t give her the attention she felt she was entitled to. That’s part of the reason why I am the way I am, even though she’s dead she’ll never really let me go, not completely anyways. Even now that she’s nothing more than a pile of ashes the bitch still has a hold on me.
We had a good run the kid and I, before the devil woman came back . I went from dangling on the edge of bankruptcy to being a successful business owner. Townsfolk stopped wasting their gas driving to Grimsby for flowers and started coming into the shop, buying local, which is something that I recommend everyone to do. Supporting a corporation is a lot like spending money on a hooker. In the end the hooker does all the leg work and the pimp walks away with most of the money.
I was glad things were moving inside that store again, it was nice having what I’d always considered my burden become my reward, my back pay for all the years of suffering and nagging, all the years of listening to that cunt’s tongue waggle at both ends.
Customers weren’t the only thing moving around inside that shop though, oh no, there was something much less beneficial lurking within its interior.

WILMA - Chapter Three - Dean Sexton

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