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Housewife
Everything was going to be fine.
Cindy's hands barely shook as she carefully sliced the tomato, adding one slice at a time to the carefully folded turkey and cheese before her.
“Damnit woman, where's my lunch?”
Cindy ignored the angry shout from the living room, humming lightly to herself as she opened the jar of pickles.
Everything was going to be fine.
Opening the jar was hard. It was tightly closed and the muscles in her upper arm hurt when she stressed them. The big hand-shaped bruises were deep, and only just starting to turn black and blue. But that was all right. A long sleeve shirt would hide them, as always.
It was important that she get the jar open. Steven was very particular, and this sandwich had to be perfect.
“What the hell is taking you so long?”
With a grunt of pain and exertion, the lid gave way. Cindy carefully speared a few slices, adding them to the sandwich. She had to fuss a little to get the slices in just the right places. Her depth perception wasn't quite what it should be, what with one of her eyes swollen shut. But that was alright. A pair of sunglasses would hide that. As always.
Everything was going to be fine.
“Bitch, do not make me get up and come in there! If you make me miss part of the game...”
The mustard jar, on the other hand, opened easily. Still humming, she began to gently spread the condiment onto the bread. She was careful not to get any on the outside edges. Steven hated it when he got mustard on his hands. She didn't want to make him upset. Not now.
No, this time everything was going to be perfect. She'd been extra careful to get everything she needed. Today was going to be special.
Everything was going to be fine.
“Woman, get your ass in here with my lunch, this instant, or so help me….”
The angry bellows barely fazed Cindy, as she slid the sandwich onto a plate. Steven never did more than yell. Well, almost never did more than yell. Rarely.
Sometimes.
Just when she deserved it.
All the time!
But that was okay. Because today everything was perfect. She was sure of that. She was happy.
Everything was going to be fine.
“I'm coming dear!” She called out cheerfully.
“About damned time! And don't forget the beer this time you dumb bitch!”
It was always fine. Because Steven only hit her when she deserved it. And he never, ever, ever touched little Timmy. Timmy, the light of her life. For nine months, the heartbeat under her own. Her precious little boy.
The doctors all said he'd make a full recovery after his 'fall.' It was just a broken arm. Four year olds heal fast. But they had wanted to keep him overnight. For observation.
And that was fine.
Everything was going to be fine.
Still humming, she held the plate in her shaky left hand, while her right picked up the last addition to her perfect meal. It wasn't something she usually kept in the kitchen. She'd had to dig through Steven's side of the closet to find it. He'd be mad when he saw the mess she'd made. But that was okay.
Everything was going to be fine.
Cindy walked into the living room, a smile on her lips.
“There you are, you lazy bitch! I have half a mind to...”
Looking away from the television, Steven gazed up at her. She was still smiling despite her black eye, standing there with his lunch in one hand… And his snub nosed .38 in the other. The scene was so surreal, so unnatural, that it took his muddled mind a few moments to process it.
A strange expression then appeared on his face. Cindy had a hard time recognizing it. It had been a long time since her husband had shown fear. (Or concern. Or compassion. Or love. Or anything but anger and rage and his hands reaching for her...!) Why was he afraid? She was just bringing him his lunch.
Everything was going to be fine.
Steven raised his hands in a placating gesture, a nervous, uncertain smile on his lips.
“Look, I just want my sandwich...”
Cindy smiled and nodded. “Of course dear.”
Her finger pulled gently on the trigger.
The hammer fell.
Everything was going to be fine.
Cindy's hands barely shook as she carefully sliced the tomato, adding one slice at a time to the carefully folded turkey and cheese before her.
“Damnit woman, where's my lunch?”
Cindy ignored the angry shout from the living room, humming lightly to herself as she opened the jar of pickles.
Everything was going to be fine.
Opening the jar was hard. It was tightly closed and the muscles in her upper arm hurt when she stressed them. The big hand-shaped bruises were deep, and only just starting to turn black and blue. But that was all right. A long sleeve shirt would hide them, as always.
It was important that she get the jar open. Steven was very particular, and this sandwich had to be perfect.
“What the hell is taking you so long?”
With a grunt of pain and exertion, the lid gave way. Cindy carefully speared a few slices, adding them to the sandwich. She had to fuss a little to get the slices in just the right places. Her depth perception wasn't quite what it should be, what with one of her eyes swollen shut. But that was alright. A pair of sunglasses would hide that. As always.
Everything was going to be fine.
“Bitch, do not make me get up and come in there! If you make me miss part of the game...”
The mustard jar, on the other hand, opened easily. Still humming, she began to gently spread the condiment onto the bread. She was careful not to get any on the outside edges. Steven hated it when he got mustard on his hands. She didn't want to make him upset. Not now.
No, this time everything was going to be perfect. She'd been extra careful to get everything she needed. Today was going to be special.
Everything was going to be fine.
“Woman, get your ass in here with my lunch, this instant, or so help me….”
The angry bellows barely fazed Cindy, as she slid the sandwich onto a plate. Steven never did more than yell. Well, almost never did more than yell. Rarely.
Sometimes.
Just when she deserved it.
All the time!
But that was okay. Because today everything was perfect. She was sure of that. She was happy.
Everything was going to be fine.
“I'm coming dear!” She called out cheerfully.
“About damned time! And don't forget the beer this time you dumb bitch!”
It was always fine. Because Steven only hit her when she deserved it. And he never, ever, ever touched little Timmy. Timmy, the light of her life. For nine months, the heartbeat under her own. Her precious little boy.
The doctors all said he'd make a full recovery after his 'fall.' It was just a broken arm. Four year olds heal fast. But they had wanted to keep him overnight. For observation.
And that was fine.
Everything was going to be fine.
Still humming, she held the plate in her shaky left hand, while her right picked up the last addition to her perfect meal. It wasn't something she usually kept in the kitchen. She'd had to dig through Steven's side of the closet to find it. He'd be mad when he saw the mess she'd made. But that was okay.
Everything was going to be fine.
Cindy walked into the living room, a smile on her lips.
“There you are, you lazy bitch! I have half a mind to...”
Looking away from the television, Steven gazed up at her. She was still smiling despite her black eye, standing there with his lunch in one hand… And his snub nosed .38 in the other. The scene was so surreal, so unnatural, that it took his muddled mind a few moments to process it.
A strange expression then appeared on his face. Cindy had a hard time recognizing it. It had been a long time since her husband had shown fear. (Or concern. Or compassion. Or love. Or anything but anger and rage and his hands reaching for her...!) Why was he afraid? She was just bringing him his lunch.
Everything was going to be fine.
Steven raised his hands in a placating gesture, a nervous, uncertain smile on his lips.
“Look, I just want my sandwich...”
Cindy smiled and nodded. “Of course dear.”
Her finger pulled gently on the trigger.
The hammer fell.
Everything was going to be fine.
Okay, first one up. Let's do this.
My first thoughts were that this was a pretty original slant on the prompt, and one that successfully nurtured its theme throughout the narrative. There's a nice slow building up of tension, which is handled well, and some clever repetition and book-ending, which is like [i]the[i/] best thing for me in works of fiction. I did feel the tension was undermined a little by the story's predictability, but I do think in a fic this size, and wrestling with the particular subject matter it addresses, there's no great harm or shame in that.
Where it falls down though, for me, is in the way it handles said subject matter. It felt as though it was running through some kind of domestic abuse checklist, with the overall result feeling somewhat overly melodramatic for my tastes. I've worked with survivors and perpetrators of abuse for a decent period of time, and some more subtle, non-physical aspects (the isolationism, the guilt, the controlling behaviour) would have made the plot feel a little more real to me, rather than just "What a violent bastard this guy is". Not that I believe people won't have had this kind of experience, but I can only compare with what I've absorbed, second-hand, and it made the fic feel a little cliché. Also:
From this point I felt momentarily confused as to which character's PoV I was experiencing the scene through, and it kind of broke the spell for me.
All that being said, this was a pretty strong fic to start out on, and even if it didn't completely succeed in drawing me in emotionally, the skillful manner in which it was written kept my attention nicely. I expect this to feature in the top quarter of my list.
Nice work, thanks for sharing!
My first thoughts were that this was a pretty original slant on the prompt, and one that successfully nurtured its theme throughout the narrative. There's a nice slow building up of tension, which is handled well, and some clever repetition and book-ending, which is like [i]the[i/] best thing for me in works of fiction. I did feel the tension was undermined a little by the story's predictability, but I do think in a fic this size, and wrestling with the particular subject matter it addresses, there's no great harm or shame in that.
Where it falls down though, for me, is in the way it handles said subject matter. It felt as though it was running through some kind of domestic abuse checklist, with the overall result feeling somewhat overly melodramatic for my tastes. I've worked with survivors and perpetrators of abuse for a decent period of time, and some more subtle, non-physical aspects (the isolationism, the guilt, the controlling behaviour) would have made the plot feel a little more real to me, rather than just "What a violent bastard this guy is". Not that I believe people won't have had this kind of experience, but I can only compare with what I've absorbed, second-hand, and it made the fic feel a little cliché. Also:
The scene was so surreal, so unnatural, that it took his muddled mind a few moments to process it.
From this point I felt momentarily confused as to which character's PoV I was experiencing the scene through, and it kind of broke the spell for me.
All that being said, this was a pretty strong fic to start out on, and even if it didn't completely succeed in drawing me in emotionally, the skillful manner in which it was written kept my attention nicely. I expect this to feature in the top quarter of my list.
Nice work, thanks for sharing!
If Cindy is abused that often, you'd think the doctors would have said something. Unless we're in the fifties.
I'll be honest, when the story reached the point where Timmy broke his arm, I chuckled. I know I'm terrible, but the story keeps hammering (heh) the issue of physical abuse so much it lost some of it's impact.
As >>Ceffyl_Dwr said, if instead of focusing solely on the physical and verbal abuse the narrative had shown us part of the emotional and mental anguish Steven put his family through, if only for variety's sake, it would' ve been easier to get investef in the story.
I'll be honest, when the story reached the point where Timmy broke his arm, I chuckled. I know I'm terrible, but the story keeps hammering (heh) the issue of physical abuse so much it lost some of it's impact.
As >>Ceffyl_Dwr said, if instead of focusing solely on the physical and verbal abuse the narrative had shown us part of the emotional and mental anguish Steven put his family through, if only for variety's sake, it would' ve been easier to get investef in the story.
Yeah, this is a little over the top on the abuse, but... I think that's justification for the step she's about to take. I think this might possibly work better in first person though, from Cindy's own voice. That would justify the focus being wherever it was because that's what the character (imperfect narrator) was thinking about.
I do have to say I knew from like line three that she was going to kill her husband. Of course, as she was making a sandwich, I really, really thought it'd be poison, as the irony is more fitting. The close-focus on each of the ingredients made me think this as well, as I expected something like rat poison to be mentioned just as casually as the mustard. Having her use a gun instead makes me want more explanation for why it was important to her to get the sandwich just right.
Overall, a decently crafted bit of revenge-porn (as in, we, the audience are supposed to take a puerile joy in her revenge.) The bit about how he "never, ever touched Timmy... (until now)" was brilliant touch I really enjoyed and made me root for a violent death. But with how cliche the subject matter itself is, I think it could use a little tweaking to be less anvilicious.
I do have to say I knew from like line three that she was going to kill her husband. Of course, as she was making a sandwich, I really, really thought it'd be poison, as the irony is more fitting. The close-focus on each of the ingredients made me think this as well, as I expected something like rat poison to be mentioned just as casually as the mustard. Having her use a gun instead makes me want more explanation for why it was important to her to get the sandwich just right.
Overall, a decently crafted bit of revenge-porn (as in, we, the audience are supposed to take a puerile joy in her revenge.) The bit about how he "never, ever touched Timmy... (until now)" was brilliant touch I really enjoyed and made me root for a violent death. But with how cliche the subject matter itself is, I think it could use a little tweaking to be less anvilicious.
I must agree with all that has been said before. The constant hammering ended up being predictable and thus counterproductive. The passage pointed out by Ceffyl came across as telly: describe the face of the guy instead, a face suggestive of a mix between surprise, incomprehension and fear. That would've worked better than bluntly telling us how he feels.
That being said, it's a fairly written story about domestic abuse, but there's no strain of originality I can detect. It's not a particularly creative way to broach the problem, and I'm sure I've read it before. I mean, the story holds its own, it's not even tired, but even with the final twist, it's hard to really get involved in it.
That being said, it's a fairly written story about domestic abuse, but there's no strain of originality I can detect. It's not a particularly creative way to broach the problem, and I'm sure I've read it before. I mean, the story holds its own, it's not even tired, but even with the final twist, it's hard to really get involved in it.
Housewife — A — First reaction: Seems bland enough. Needs pepper.
(+) Oh, *that* kind of sandwich. Excellent building, only does not really hook at the beginning. The revenge-porn is a shock at the end, but a *good* shock. Well-constructed and characterized.
(-) There may be some quibbles on the wife’s behavior in respect to typical domestic violence victims, but one must remember this is *not* a typical end to the scenario, or there would be a lot more real life instances of this.
Weapons: One .38 cal. revolver, most probably a J-frame .38 special. Fatalities: One well-deserved
(+) Oh, *that* kind of sandwich. Excellent building, only does not really hook at the beginning. The revenge-porn is a shock at the end, but a *good* shock. Well-constructed and characterized.
(-) There may be some quibbles on the wife’s behavior in respect to typical domestic violence victims, but one must remember this is *not* a typical end to the scenario, or there would be a lot more real life instances of this.
Weapons: One .38 cal. revolver, most probably a J-frame .38 special. Fatalities: One well-deserved
Eh... This story feels like it's using a sledge when it just needs a tap. I realize that your chosen plot isn't very large, which is something of an advantage in the minific round, but the first 2/3rds or so of the story really seem to belabor the 'abuse' point so hard it ends up feeling melodramatic and filler-ish. Still, the descriptions are pretty, the repetition works well (until it doesn't) and the whole thing is a very nice little package, so this definitely does several things right.
Seven Word Review
Gut punch, though not unjustified I'm sure.
(Aside, I've been in this fandom too long. I keep parsing the title as 'Horsewife'.)
Gut punch, though not unjustified I'm sure.
(Aside, I've been in this fandom too long. I keep parsing the title as 'Horsewife'.)