Welcome to the Spot Writers. This month’s prompt is to write a story in which mistaken identity plays a major role.
This week’s story comes from Chiara De Giorgi. Chiara dreams, reads, edits texts, translates, and occasionally writes in two languages. She also has a lot of fun.
It’s done, and it’s a relief
by Chiara De Giorgi
“So, it’s done.”
“Well, that’s a relief.”
“Why, of course.”
“If you say so.”
“Do you have doubts?”
“No, no, of course not.”
“Because you should have talked before, you know.”
“Hey, don’t get upset. I said it’s fine.”
“Well, you don’t sound like you’re fine.”
“But I am, I swear. I just hoped that it could all be solved in a different way. It’s all in the past, now, though, and I’m fine.”
“I surely hope so, after all the discussions, and after all that poor guy has been forced to go through! If you had to offer a different option, then you should have talked earlier. Now it’s too damn late!”
“Don’t I know that? Do you think I’m stupid? I’m not going to raise doubts now, for C’s sake. I was just talking, You know, letting it out a bit.”
“All right, all right. No need to get touchy. I guess we’re all a little shaken.”
“Yeah, it’s not something you normally have to deal with.”
“Let’s hope it won’t be necessary to deal with it again in the future.”
“On that, we agree.”
“Well, then. I wish you a good night.”
“Thanks. Good night to you.”
Robert tasted his drink, then sighed and put it down.
He was convinced they had taken the right decision: after the difficult operation, their old father would be better off at the nursing home with 24-hour care.
He loved the old man, and the thought of letting him go was unbearable. Their father wouldn’t have surgery. “Let Nature have her own way”, he had said. But Robert couldn’t do that. Couldn’t bear to see him die. So he and his brother Liam had tricked him into the hospital, where he was taken care of. That was one month ago. Now his brother had finally driven the old man to the nursing home. It was done, and it was a relief.
Peter dropped the phone on the kitchen counter and sighed, then poured himself a generous glass of whiskey. Yes, it was done, and yes, it was a relief. But he still thought that there might have been another way to deal with their partner in crime. They could have arranged for him to go away, to settle down in some exotic island, away from everything. Killing him shouldn’t have been their first option. But his cousin Andrew had been adamant: once one thinks about talking, the thought never goes away until it’s been acted upon. And then it would be too late for all of them. Neither of them wanted to end their life in prison. So they had taken Simon out. Everything had gone as planned and he, Peter, had been the one in charge of disposing of the body. Peter smirked and took a sip from his glass. Of course it had to be him. Andrew would never get his hand dirty. Anyway. Now there was nothing more to be worried about.
The Spot Writers—Our Members:
Val Muller: http://www.valmuller.com/blog/
Catherine A. MacKenzie: https://writingwicket.wordpress.com/wicker-chitter/
Phil Yeats: https://alankemisterauthor.wordpress.com/
Chiara De Giorgi: https://chiaradegiorgi.blogspot.com/