The Sale. Part 4. A short story.

The crazy lady was right up in my face, spittle flicking onto my cheek as she voiced her objection. I backed up, hands raised. “Look, I’m really sorry,” I said. “I really didn’t know you had a tragedy related to…cleaning products.”

As if from nowhere, she extracted a huge butcher’s knife from its hiding place behind her back. It glinted malevolently in her hand, matching the glint in her eye. The yelp that escaped my lips was more feminine than I would have liked. My eyes widened to the size of saucers, adrenaline surged and my voice trembled. “I can see you’re probably planning dinner, so maybe I should take my leave.” I continued backing away.

The redhead stared at me through eyes that were a thin line of vehemence. The knife blade shimmered in the firelight. “My mother was killed…by a vacuum cleaner.”

“Sir?” From behind me, the butler’s shaking voice.

I didn’t dare turn around. “Yes?” I said, my voice breaking involuntarily.

“Run.”

To be continued…

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