Gerald Stone: A Short Story

Words: 1614
Pages: 7

While sitting on the metal folding chair, thinking at any moment the legs would sink into the earth and drop my fat butt onto the grass, which of course didn’t happen.
I listened as the birds in the nearby trees sang so beautiful it was as if they knew what was going on, as the pallbearers gently placed the casket on the frame over the open grave. The morning sun glistened off the bronze casket. Numbness engulfed when I learned of my husband’s sudden death. Now, I needed to keep up the appearance of a grieving widow as a tear rolled down my cheek. I allowed my mind to drift away to happier times so I wouldn’t listen as the minister proclaimed what a wonderful man Gerald Stone was. Fifteen minutes later, the mortuary attendant said, “This concludes the service for Gerald Stone. The family will be serving lunch at his
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“I’ll tell you when you get here. Why don’t you come on over so we can talk.”
Later, Harvey, Detective Stanton and I sat in the living room. “Mr. Feinstein, I want to hear your story again. Would you tell me, what happened to Mr. Stone?”
I watched as Harvey stood up, walked back and forth across the floor, wringing his hands as he spoke. “I’d been out of town for several days and came home early. My wife was visiting her sister in Nashville. I was alone. Around midnight, I heard a noise downstairs, and grabbed my gun. I went down the stairway. When I opened the kitchen door, the night light from the dining room shinned into the kitchen, and saw the shadow of a someone taking things out of a drawer and asked what he was doing. The man charged toward me with a butcher knife in his hand and I shot him in the chest.” “Why didn’t you recognize your friend?” He asked, puzzled since they were friends.
“The only thing I saw was the outline. He never said a word, just lunged toward me with the knife in his hand and fire in his eyes, and I shot him,” Harvey said and covered his face in his