*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.
*Disclaimers: This story has been edited by myself, utilizing Microsoft Spell-Check. You have been forewarned; expect to find mistakes.
Just a flash story.
**..**..**
The bowl of candy was not on the small table next to the front door. Year after year, she would buy all the candies she loved and put the bowl right by the door, in preparation for the little goblins and ghosts and super heroes. Of course, she would 'sample' the candies throughout the day and Michael would also 'sample' the goodies throughout the day. That's why she always made sure to have Reese's Peanut Butter Cups in the selection.
The large wooden bowl had been one of the items she'd taken from her Grandmother's house after Nana had passed. Nana had perched that bowl on her cupboard, kept the candy apples in that bowl, ready for the ghosts and goblins that would come to her door happily shrieking 'Trick or treat!'
But there was no bowl next to the door. There would be no candy this year. She stepped into the kitchen, struck by how loud the refrigerator hummed, how loud the ancient schoolhouse clock ticked, its pendulum swinging slowly back and forth, back and forth. Tick-tic-tick.
The large bowl sat on top of the corner cabinet, its lip just visible over the ledge of the cabinet. She wondered if she should get it down, just in case Michael would decide to stop at the grocery store and buy some candy.
She shook her head. Michael would not buy candy; even though he raided the bowl every year, he always groused that it was a waste of money.
It had not been a waste of money. Seeing smiles on children's' faces; how could that be a waste of money?
"And when they had Karen...
One year, Karen was going to be a princess. No, no, Karen wanted to be a pirate. No, no, Karen wanted to be a ballerina. And she and Michael endured it all with smiles. They encouraged Karen's every whim.
She stepped to the back door and looked out onto their back yard. There was Karen's swing set. Looking at that gaily painted swing set, she smiled softly. In her mind's eye she could see Karen trying, trying oh so hard to reach the treetops with her swinging legs. Karen's long red hair would flow back, her hazel eyes would be wide, her mouth would be open as she tried, tried so hard to swing above.
As she stood and watched, a gentle breeze caused the swing to rock back and forth slowly. She cried out as she watched the ghostly swinging of the pink plastic seat.
Soon the swing came to rest again. Swiveling her head, she looked at the pool. That damned pool, that damned, miserable pool.
Michael had insisted on putting that pool into their back yard. He had wanted it, so of course, she had given in.
"I hope it was worth it, Michael," she snarled bitterly, abruptly turning away from the sliding glass door.
Slowly she made her way up the stairs. The frame was still up from the child's gate they'd installed when Karen was six months old. Both she and Michael were terrified Karen would crawl to the stairs' edge, then topple down. When Karen began walking, their fears were doubled, tripled that Karen would stagger at her haphazard pace, then take a fatal spill down the stairs.
Of course, when Karen got older, they took the gate down. But the brackets that had held the gate in place were still there.
Karen's bedroom had not been changed. She started to enter the room, but could not.
"I, I'm sorry, Karen," I'm sorry," she whispered.
"I hope it was worth it," Michael had thundered.
He'd been ignoring her. She'd tried time and time again to get him to pay attention to her; romantic dinners while Karen was next door at Mrs. Nettie's, waxing her pussy, sexy lingerie. They'd even gone skinny-dipping in the pool.
