On the Other Foot

Killing him at the river didn’t work. She moved to plan B. The house where he made her life hell was better anyway.

No one would hear him here, and if they did, it wouldn’t matter. Between the drug dealers and those who remembered him, the cops wouldn’t be called. “Hell, they might even help me.”

She took out her supplies: box cutter, bleach, cigarettes and his favorite, duct tape. Just everyday items, but to him, they were toys.

However, it was time for the shoe to be on the other foot. Time for him to taste his own medicine.


For Friday Fictioneers, with a twist. This is sequel to last Friday’s short fiction piece. 

Make sure you check out Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ challenge by clicking on the badge below.


13 thoughts on “On the Other Foot

  1. Pingback: Bridge to Freedom | Chasing Life and Finding Dreams

  2. Love and unicorns? I’ve never tried that. My best stuff has always been when something traumatic has happened, like a break up! Right now I’m happy. How depressing!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Blah ha ha. Yes, love and unicorns were in some fiction piece I wrote, I think. And some of my love pieces must have a unicorn waiting in the wings I think since they speak of moments that are so magical. But, my sad pieces have their own edge too. Maybe those need to have some angry trolls to counterbalance?


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