This very short story, of 498 words, is in response to Kreative Kue 2, issued on this site yesterday
At last, it was here. The day I had longed for, prayed for. Every night for what seemed like ages, I had gone to sleep dreaming of seeing his face; seeing him walking toward me; trying to gauge his expression. Would it betray any nervousness, any hint of uncertainty? Or would he be calm, confident and totally sure of himself?
I was certainly nervous. I was hesitant and, yes, I felt unworthy; so very unworthy. But there were things I knew I needed to do, actions I was compelled to take, words that cried out to be said. And so I waited. Day after day, night after night. But I had to stay strong and resolute. I knew that so much depended on it. Every time I heard news that he might be coming, I became at once both anxious and excited. Every time, though, it only gave me false hope, only to let me down again.
Until that day.
That day I knew for sure he would be coming. He was on an internal flight from the capital, arriving late in the afternoon, just as the light would start to fail. No matter. It would be light enough for me to see him clearly; light enough to recognise him and give him the greeting he so deserved, the greeting I had spent endless days and nights planning for him.
I saw the aircraft touch down on the runway. I watched as its engines roared when the props were reversed, and laboured to arrest its progress. I heard the tyres squeal as the wheel brakes were applied. Finally, it came to rest, and taxied to its position on the apron, where the passenger transport bus and the luggage transporters were standing, waiting for the crew to discharge the plane’s cargo; human and baggage.
After a brief pause, the pilot killed the engines and turned on the interior lights of the aircraft. I could see him, about half way back. I was sure it was him, although I wouldn’t know for certain until I could see him descending the steps and placing his feet, once again, on terra firma.
The passengers started to leave. Two by two they descended the steps. He was still in his seat, probably he’d be the last to leave. Finally I saw him stand and start moving away from his row. A short while later, he was at the top of the steps, a burly security man at his side, lightly touching his arm. He looked cool, confident and relaxed. He seemed to be sharing a joke with his companion.
I crouched behind my car, supported the high-powered sniper rifle I had bought on the internet on its roof, sighted him with laser accuracy, and fired a round straight into his groin. As I did, I shouted the words I had wanted to say for ages,
“YOU WILL SUFFER FOR RAPING MY DAUGHTER!”
Then I fired another round.
DSO and bar!