(The Indie United Flash Fiction Challenge requires doing a story with a picture as a prompt. The story can be no longer than 250 words. Photo copyright K. S. Brooks.)
There! Cletus watched as the light sped through the sky. The Reverend Raylance Pettigrew foretold of its coming. It was in the good book, a sign of the end of days. He stated we must rid ourselves of frivolous wealth (for the needy, through his foundation of course) or we would perish and not be part of the GLORIOUS rapture of souls!
His wife Nora had said “Poppycock. It’s our money. Fix the damn barn.”
Damn her! Cletus stormed back to the house. Nora had just applied her Nad’s Facial Cream and was heading to her lounger to watch her shows while it worked it’s magic. He intercepted her and sternly pointed a shaking finger in her face. “The Reverend warned us and now it’s happened!”
Nora just shook her head and stared not wishing to crack the facial mask. This enraged Cletus and he yelled “The shooting star! It came! Will you listen to me for once?” Then he slapped her awaiting a response.
Saying nothing, Nora made her way past him to the kitchen. Cletus huffed and went to the bathroom to take a leak. Next thing he knew, the bathroom door burst open and slammed the wall. Nora unloaded both barrels of a 12-gauge into Cletus’s midsection sending him flying through the shower curtain.
Nora then went to her lounger and watched her shows as planned. No one ever visited, so she could bury him tomorrow. Comet should clean up the mess in the bathroom nicely.