Cyanide and Dreams
"Everyday is just the same ole day," Jenny complained into the two wine glasses.
Her comment wasn't a complete untruth. Johnny worked long hours at the firm. Then he came home and worked until late evening on home projects. First it was the back patio, then it was the greenhouse, now he was planting trees for an apple orchard.
"An apple orchard," she yelled into the empty kitchen. "Why, we'll be old and gray before it's ever fully grown. What's he expect me to do, languish inside this house from daylight to dark while he works himself to death at that firm and these silly home projects, only to spend my golden years picking apples?"
She'd spoken to Johnny countless times on account of her dissatisfaction. And, always, he would ignore her as he explained his future plans with gusto. Well, not anymore! She skipped into the study, crossed the room to the corner desk and pulled a manilla envelope from beneath the metal rotary. The top paper was her application to the local beauty school, and beneath it was the policy. Three months ago she'd first signed it. Today made ninety days, today meant the policy was now in effect.
Seventy-five thousand dollars. That was enough to pay off the house, buy a new car, pay for beauty school, start a new life! She smiled to herself and walked back to the kitchen. There, she carefully pulled the bottle from cabinet, emptied two capsules into the wine glass.
"Hey Johhnn-nnnyyy," she yelled from the kitchen window with her crystalline smile. "Time for our evening drink!"
Written for a prompt at Pink.Girl.Ink.