Flash Fiction - The Shot
One year into retirement, Margie had slipped comfortably into a waking routine of sipping coffee and watching the birds in the front yard. It was all she could do in a world full of worry. The network news was chaos. Facebook was depressing. The magazines were bleak. But the birds soothed her soul. It was pure morning magic at the bay window watching the robins and sparrows perform. The daring jays swooping in and making a mess of things. The squirrels provided comic relief. Yes, she thought, the mug steaming before her chin, here everything made perfect sense. Since leaving the classroom, Margie had traveled, visited the grandkids down south. She occasionally played bridge with the old bitties across the street. A teacher all her life, she’d thought about substituting once in a while, but had yet to go back in the trenches. Retirement came easy for Margie. Leonard, on the other hand, was struggling with it. An actuary for thirty-seven years, Margie’s husband had been a legend at the o...
