SHORT STORIES

Paint
It was nice to see him smile for a change. Aside from the occasional “spilling a Jackson Pollock” joke, he never said anything jocular. I had an exit plan from house painting. He was trapped into his life; always fighting with his wife. He really seemed to hate her. Today he was joking around and laughing it up and I noticed he had a streak of red paint on his overalls. And then it occurred to me: Where are we painting red today?

First published in the Tucson Weekly as part of their 2009 Microfiction contest.

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