Never Forget…

His wife complained that he’d forget everything.

He’d forgotten their anniversary.  Every year.

He’d forget where he left his keys.

He decided to kill her.  That would show her.

At the crucial moment, he pulled out…

Nothing.

The gun was in his nightstand.

Or maybe in the car?

I forget.

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This entry was written by shutz , posted on Monday September 14 2009at 11:09 am , filed under Story and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink . Post a comment below or leave a trackback: Trackback URL.

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