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THE WIDOW, a short story

The following letter was received in the mail with the request for it to be posted on the internet. Blake Nail neither condemns nor supports the views represented below. He posted it purely for the safety of himself and his family, out of fear of the repercussions if he didn't...

I can’t believe it.

I got through.

Finally published, for all to see. I could go on and on about how this day has been long overdue, but I just don’t have the room in the word count. So instead, let me sum it up quickly for you. The clock is ticking before he wakes up again anyways.

It wasn’t more than five years ago that I met him. You guys know him by a different name. The fake one he picked to go along with the rubber and latex he prances around in. Kind of funny that he’s dressed in the same attire as a dominatrix and I still can’t get him to throw me on a mattress like he used to. And let me tell you, he used to. You know, before he started with the “the world needs me” and “I have a responsibility now” stuff. Oh please, save me.

Actually, don’t.

If only you could see him now. Well, one of you lucky readers will. If you get here first. You’ll see the world’s glorious protector sprawled out like a fallen newborn doe, except he’s not moving to get back up. Nothing like the hero the world praises and calls upon. Nope. Those whiskeys when he grants me the spare five minutes he has - the one or two times he manages to - are not hitting like they used to. You see, my plan, Plan B, is finally coming together.

The clock has been ticking and he knew it. We were supposed to see the world. We were supposed to have a family by now. We were…we were supposed to be around each other enough to where I could use a ‘we’ to describe us more than just in this damn letter. Nonetheless, here we are. The day of my great reveal, my great ta-da!

So, if this is Plan B, what was Plan A? I'm glad you asked.

Plan A: Find a man, start a family and see the world together.

Everything was going according to plan; the wedding went smoothly and soon we were homeowners. A four bedroom house we were going to fill with our children, our family. We didn’t plan for…for what happened to him. He likes to call them powers, I call them aberrations…malfunctions in the human body. To him it was a calling to an elevated life. To me? It was a failure of a plan. Eventually, he was never home. Out flying through the sky, victims in his arms as he brought them to safety amidst applause from the world. Everyone clapping, but one.


And no, I’m not a bitter hag complaining about her husband. I’m a woman who was promised something and someone isn’t holding up their end of the bargain. While he was out rescuing people in need, I was crying out for help inside the empty four walls of our home turned prison. He brought in no money, no semen and no handiwork around the house. I was left to do it all. And the cherry on top? He wouldn’t even entertain the idea of a divorce. He liked the thought of me being here, waiting on him. The sick bastard.

On and on time went, in unison with my biological clock. Now, here I am pushing thirty-seven with no children, no family, no traveling and essentially, no husband. This is not what I signed up for. This is not how my plan was supposed to go. I guess this is what happens when you fall for the Nicholas Spark’s narrative. So, what’s a girl to do when her plan falls apart? Make a new one.

Plan B: Give the world what they want.

Step 1: Find a scientist willing to create a serum to eradicate these ‘powers’ in my husband.

Step 2: Have him throw you on a mattress and make your eyes roll back.

Step 3: Slowly administer serum in husband’s whiskey.

Step 4: Watch him stumble to the floor, drooling a puddle on the tile.

Step 5: Unveil his identity and location through a published piece of work for the whole world to see.

So, here we are. The day has come.

My day.

My time.

My plan.

You all love him so much, you beckon him to your every call, so here he is for you on a silver platter. I just hope none of those villainous, dangerous enemies of his know how to read. That would be, well, unfortunate for him, wouldn’t it? A dark day for the world indeed, but for me? I can start to see the light.

Darren Hudson

4254 Harbor Lane

Willington, CT 06279

Who will get here first? Friend or foe?

I can’t wait to find out.


The Widow.

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