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Wife, husband, game night, revenge

Humor / Romance
Age Rating:


It’s a freezeing January cold day and I hate my wife. We’re playing scrabble. Thats how bad it is. I’m 52 years old,it’s a blistering cold snowy Monday afternoon and all I can think of to do with my life is to play scrabble.
I should be out, doing exercises,spending money I dont have and meeting people. I don’t think I’ve spoken to anyone except my wife since last Monday morning. But on Friday I did speak to the mailman.
My letters are crap. I play, appropriately,BEGIN. With the letter N on the pink star. (Twenty-two points. )
I watch my wifes smugg expression an she rearranges her lettle tales for the second time. Click,click,click. The moving of the letters. I hate her. If she wasn’t around, I’d be doing something fun and interesting right now . I’d be climbing Mount Kilimanjaro. Id be starring in a Broadway play. Id be sailing the Caribbean in a clipper called Masters Dream – gosh i don’t know but I’d be doing something besides playing scrabble.
My wife she played the word. JINXED, with the J on a pink letter scores. Thirty points. Shes beat me already. I hate her, she can’t even let me win at scrabble. Maybe I should kill her. If I only had a D, then I could play the word MURDER. That would be a sign. That would be permission.
I started chewing on my O Yeah I know it’s a habit, I know . All that letters are frayed, she tells me that at least a dozen times everytime we play. But I played warner for twenty – two points, mainly so i can keep chewing on my O even just to make her mad.
As I’m picking new letters from the bag, i find myself thinking-the will tell me what to do. If they spell KILL, or STAB,or name,or anything, I’ll do it now. Ill finish her off. The letters on my rack spells MIHZPA. Plus the O in my mouth. Dang.
The cold wind was beating against the window. I could hear the wind blowing, seeing the snow blow in the wind. I saw where a guy is letting his dog freeze to death. Why can’t my wife freeze to death?
She plays SWEATER, using all her letters. Twenty-four posts and fifty point bonus points. With a smug look on her face, just rubbing it in. If it was so cold id strangle her right now. I'm getting colder. It needs to be Sping. As soon as that thought crosses my mind. I find a good word COLD on a double word score, using the D in the JINXED. The O makes a little splash of spit when I put it down. Another twenty-two points. I hope she has lousy letters.
She tells me she has lousy letters. For some reason, I hate her more, her and her smirk. She plays FAN, with the F on a double-letter, and gets up to fill the tea kettle.
The coldest day in the last five years and my wife is drinking ice cold water. That is one of the many reasons I hate my wife. I play the words ZAPS, with the Z doubled, she burns her hand on the burner on the stove. For some reason, I find that remarkably satisfying. She sits back down with a heavy sigh and starts fiddling with her letters again. Click,click,click. Click,click.
I feel a terrible rage building up inside me.. Like some inner poison running through my veins to my arms and when it reaches the tips of my fingers. I feel like I'm going to jump out of my chair, spilling the Scrabble tiles to the kitchen floor, and I am going to start hitting her again and again and again. The rage gets to my fingertips and passes. My heart is beating. I'm sweaty and I think my face and eyes are twitching. Then I sigh, deeply, and sit back in my chair. The tea kettle starts whistling. As the whistling builds so do my anger and temper, making me feel hotter. She plays READY on a double-word score for eighteen points, then goes to pour me a cup of tea. Laughing that I am drinking something hot.
I steal a blank tile from the letter bag when she's not looking and throw the V from my rack into the bag. Giving me a suspicious look placing the cup of tea in front of me. As she was sitting back down I play an eight-letter word CHEATING, using the letter A of her word READY. Sixty-four points, including the fifty-point bonus, which means I am beating her now.
She asks me if I cheated.
Man, I hate her. She plays IGNORE on the trip-word score for twenty-one points. The score is 153 to her and 155 to me. The steam rising from my cup of tea is making me feel hotter. I try to make murderous words with the letters on my rack, but the best I can do is SLEEP. My wife sleeps all the time. She slept through an argument our neighbors had next door. Which had a result of a broken window and doors with a television and a large stuffed bear with the stuffing coming out. Then the next day she gripped at me for being mood due to the lack of sleep.
If only there was some way of getting rid of her. I spot a chance to use my letters. EXPLODES, using the X of JINXED. Seventh-two points. Haha, that will show her. As I put the last letter down, there is a deafening bang the portable heater fails.
My heart is racing, but not from the shock of a bang. I don't believe it- can it be a coincidence. The letters made it happen. I played the word EXPLODES, and it happens- the heater exploded. And before, I played the word CHEATING when I cheated. And the word BURN when my wife got BURNED. Oh my gosh, the words are coming true. The letters are choosing our future. The entire game is- JINXED.
Then my wife plays the word SIGN, with an N on the triple-letter, for ten points.
Ok, ok I gave to test this.
I have to see if something happens. Something unlikely, to prove that the letters are making stuff happen. My rike is ABQYFWE. That doesn’t leave me with too many options. I start chewing on the Bout of nervousness.
I play FLY, using the letter L in EXPLODES. I set back in the chair and close my eyes, just waiting for the sensation of rising from my chair. Waiting to fly. Stupid. I open my eyes, there’s a fly. An insect, buzzing around over the Scrabble board, in the dead of winter. What the??.
I need to play something unambiguous. Something that cannot be misinterpreted. Something absolute and final. Something terminal and murderous. My wife plays CAUTION, using a blank tile for the N. Eighteen points. My rack is AQWEUK, plus the B in my mouth. I am awed by the power of the letters and frustrated that I cannot understand them. Maybe I should cheat again, and puck out letters that I need to spell SLASH or SLAY. Then it hits me. The perfect word.A powerful and dangerous, terrible word.
I play QUAKE for nineteen points. I wonder if the strength of the quake will be proportionate to how many points it scored for me. I can feel the trembling energy of potential in my veins. I am commanding fate. I am manipulating destiny.
My wife plays the word DEATH for thirty-four points, just as the room starts to shake.
I gasp with surprise and vindication. The letter B that I was chewing on gets caught in my throat. I try to cough. My face goes red, then blue. My throat swells. I draw blood clawing my neck. The earthquake builds to a climax.
I fall to the kitchen floor. My wife just sits there smiling and sipping her tea and watching with a smirk on her face. The last thing I heard was “I’ve told you to stop chewing on the tales.


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