Monday Morning Micro Monstrosities Presents:

It’s a Good Day

By S.T. Hoover

Charlie just couldn’t believe it. After all that effort, after working so hard, forcing himself to commit to the act, this was the result?

He looked down at the gun. The smoking gun. Then, he looked to the toppled rocking chair. Behind it, the bloodsoaked corpse of the one person in this world he’d ever loved. The one person who would have given anything to make him happy.

And all he’d wanted was her death.

But there was nothing. No happiness that her nagging was finally over. No relief that he’d never have to lie to her again, just to have a moment alone. There was just emptiness, followed by a single tear.

Finally, after months of numbing care, of never-ending happiness, all he could feel was regret and dread.

It was a good day.