Five minutes. That was all it had taken. Five minutes, to ruin his life, to rob him of his love, to turn his sweet dreams into acid rain.
He had promised his girlfriend, that beautiful, sexy and lustfull woman, to bring home the big one from the poker-game one day. He had promised to buy her that wedding ring she always drooled over at Eddy's pawnshop, the one with the big pink diamond. And that night he had won, big time. He had started out with just two grand, money he had "borrowed" from his boss. Within half an hour he had doubled it, and then he doubled it again. As the hours passed, his luck held, the stakes went up and at the end of the evening he had come out of the backroom with almost a hundred and sixty-eight thousand dollars cash in his pocket. Enough to pay back his boss, buy that ring, pay for a honeymoon and then some.
He took a cab home and got stuck in traffic for a short while. Five minutes with no movement possible in any direction. Next to them another taxi, also stuck, caught his attention. In the backseat a couple was making passionate love, oblivious of the world around them, completely unaware they had an audience. Five minutes long he watched the pair, as if hypnotized, not able to look away. Then, as traffic started to move again, the acceleration of the taxi caused the man to partly roll off the woman. She, suddenly aware of her surroundings looked up. Shocked, he looked straight into the bright blue eyes of the woman he thought was waiting for him at home, the woman he intended to buy that ring for.
Later that night they had fought, bitter words had sounded through the house. It had ended when he had walked out, slamming the door shut behind him. He had walked through the night, just to be away, and to think. Just before dawn he had returned home. She was asleep now, her face still marked with smeared make-up, ruined by the tears. And he just sat there, motionless, holding his pistol in his lap. He had thought about leaving a note, but who would care? Slowly, almost reluctantly he raised his weapon and aimed it at the forehead. Taking a deep breath he squeezed the trigger, a loud bang shredded the calm of the night and then everything went silent.
Nothing moved for almost an hour. Then he raised himself from the edge of the bed, dropped the pistol on top of her now lifeless body and left the apartment.
He had promised his girlfriend, that beautiful, sexy and lustfull woman, to bring home the big one from the poker-game one day. He had promised to buy her that wedding ring she always drooled over at Eddy's pawnshop, the one with the big pink diamond. And that night he had won, big time. He had started out with just two grand, money he had "borrowed" from his boss. Within half an hour he had doubled it, and then he doubled it again. As the hours passed, his luck held, the stakes went up and at the end of the evening he had come out of the backroom with almost a hundred and sixty-eight thousand dollars cash in his pocket. Enough to pay back his boss, buy that ring, pay for a honeymoon and then some.
He took a cab home and got stuck in traffic for a short while. Five minutes with no movement possible in any direction. Next to them another taxi, also stuck, caught his attention. In the backseat a couple was making passionate love, oblivious of the world around them, completely unaware they had an audience. Five minutes long he watched the pair, as if hypnotized, not able to look away. Then, as traffic started to move again, the acceleration of the taxi caused the man to partly roll off the woman. She, suddenly aware of her surroundings looked up. Shocked, he looked straight into the bright blue eyes of the woman he thought was waiting for him at home, the woman he intended to buy that ring for.
Later that night they had fought, bitter words had sounded through the house. It had ended when he had walked out, slamming the door shut behind him. He had walked through the night, just to be away, and to think. Just before dawn he had returned home. She was asleep now, her face still marked with smeared make-up, ruined by the tears. And he just sat there, motionless, holding his pistol in his lap. He had thought about leaving a note, but who would care? Slowly, almost reluctantly he raised his weapon and aimed it at the forehead. Taking a deep breath he squeezed the trigger, a loud bang shredded the calm of the night and then everything went silent.
Nothing moved for almost an hour. Then he raised himself from the edge of the bed, dropped the pistol on top of her now lifeless body and left the apartment.
