All his life, detective John Miller had worked as a detective and not once had he ever felt the need to doubt his own skill nor his instincts. John definitely didn’t think that this would change, not on his birthday.
She’s lying on the bed naked but she has four feet, two of which are hairy and the toenails, yellow. John reaches for his gun but only shoots a glance of disgust one more time before backing out through his bedroom door.
No, John didn’t think that things would change today but to be fair, his wife’s lover was overdue for a pedicure.
John sat his bottom down softly in his usual recliner chair in front of the telly. He didn’t touch the remote; he stared at the wood axe leaning against the umbrella at his front door.
Finally, he rose. It was time for his wife’s lover’s pedicure.