It Started With A Letter

Receiving a break up letter!

It started with the letter. A letter, that was delivered, to me at my apartment by a clown.  A real to goodness clown with brillo orange hair, and a big red nose that had green slime dripping from its nose.  My first reaction was to scream and shut the door on the clown but my fear quickly turned into curiosity. Why is there a demented looking clown standing at my door? “Are you Lindsey Morgan”, the clown asked me with a dead pan look which I quickly replied “You’re not only a clown but a physic as well”.

The clown whipped his hand into his pocket, I jumped back thinking he was pulling out a gun, and instead he pulled out a horn and honked it in my face, quickly slapping a letter in my hand.  He stood there staring at me. “What no tip?” the clown asked.  I slammed the door shut and then yelled “ Hell NO”.

I walked over to my kitchen, sat, poured myself a glass of wine and stared at the letter wondering who would waste their money on a crack head clown to make a delivery. Sitting back I opened the letter and began reading it: “Dear Lindsey, It’s over! Holy crap are you kidding? Scotty is breaking up with me! I hissed through my lips. I bet you were surprise to see a clown standing at your door.  You think? I have thought about nothing else, except me and you and was wondering why am I wasting my time with you when you have let yourself go, wearing unattractive ankle socks, old lady dresses, and lately it appears as if you have swallowed an SUV tire. I started to look down at my stomach which you could bounce a penny off and knew my man had lost his mind. “I find nothing attractive about you, the way you wear your hair, the way you smell, the way your big a*s jiggles like two midgets wrestling has me ill and yo while I am at it your freaking allergies are driving me insane, hence the clown with snots”. What the hell was he talking about? I don’t have any allergies.

I was sweating bullets reading this dear freaking John letter, when there was knock on the door again. I went to open it and who was standing there non other then my wonderful Scotty, smiling from ear to ear with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. I thought to myself this guy is out of his freaking mind so I picked up my left leg and kicked him over the banister and I didn’t even look over to see how he landed. I slammed the door and went back to  reading my dear John letter. “So, it’s over Lindsey. I wanted you to be the first to know that I am getting married. That’s right married! I met Peggy three months ago and she is the best thing that ever happened to me”. As I was continuing to read the letter I heard the ambulance sirens going off and getting closer to the building. “Goodbye, good luck, and good riddance,  with all my loath Anthony”.

Anthony. Anthony? Who the hell is Anthony?  This isn't from Scotty! OH my God, this isn't from Scotty! I leaped out of the chair and opened the door and looked over the banister. Walking over Scotty’s lifeless body on the stairs was bozo the freaking clown, while the paramedics rushed up behind him to take care of Scotty. The clown reached the landing and stood in front of me. In a dead pan voice he said “Ahh I made a mistake, the letter I gave you was for a Lindsey Morgan from Montgomery Street, not Monroe. Go figure two names in nearly the same area. HAHA". Then he honked me in the face. "May I have the letter back", honk, honk. 

Unfortunately that’s the last thing I remembered. As I sit here in my jail cell trying to make sense of it all. How could I have killed two people in the same day just hours apart ten years ago.  I guess it started with the letter.

 

Author's Note

Enjoy.

Reviews

[Mark]

It started with, 'It started with the letter."
It ended with, "...it started with the letter."
Have we come full circle?
A really engrossing little read, Jay, reminding us to consider all alternatives, rather than reacting rashly to first suppositions.
The first piece of yours I've read, but not the last!

[Kira]

LOL.