It Came to Me in a Dream

Looking back on the weeks that followed the discovery of my husband's affair I can see how I might have landed myself in this holding cell.

I told everyone.

I told my mom, "I'm gonna run that bitch over with my car."

I told my best friend, "There's already body damage to the front end. Who's to know?"

I even told my therapist, who promptly asked if she needed to call and warn her she was in danger. "I don't know." I had said, "Do you think it might give her pause?"

How was I to know someone else would actually run the dumb tramp over?

The thing is I wouldn't actually run her over. At least I'm pretty sure I wouldn't, but when I said those things I was venting. You know, I'm so mad I could kill her. You don't intend to. They're just words. At least they're supposed to be. Apparently someone meant them, but I swear it wasn't me. Honest!

I've never had an idea for a mystery before. I'm still working out the details, but here is one more idea to go into the book of "One day I'm going to be a writer".