“I just killed a man,” Nancy said, flatly.
“That’s what I thought you said,” replied Karen, digesting the words.
“It still doesn’t seem real, even when I say it.”
“But why? How? Who?” Karen blurted.
“The lodger. He refused to pay rent, refused to leave. I couldn’t get him out. I wanted him out.
“There must’ve been another way? I mean, to kill someone? Are you insane?”
Nancy shrugged, turning her back on Karen as she prepared dinner. It was her only choice. She was sick of seeing him strutting around like he owned the place, like he owned her.
“How did you do it?” Karen asked, sipping her wine, hoping it would calm her.
“Stabbed him,” she replied, turning back to Karen. “Actually, with this knife.” She placed a basket of crusty bread on the table. “It made a bit of a mess. But I’ve been wanting to remodel that room for ages.” She noticed Karen looking ashen and wide eyed. “Oh for goodness sake, Karen. I’m not going to hurt you. You know what he was like! You didn’t have to live with him.” She slammed down the casserole dish.
“Sorry,” whispered Karen, resting a hand on Nancy’s. “It’s just a shock to hear.”
Nancy served up dinner and watched Karen eat.
“This is delicious! But, before we move on, can I just ask, what did you do with him?”
A smirk crossed Nancy’s face. “Let’s just say I don’t mind having him to dinner these days.”
Written for Siobhan Muir's Thursday Threads