Excellent A Tavern The Green Lantern by jusylee72 Flash Fiction Writing Contest contest entry

My favorite tavern, "The Green Lantern", made the newspaper.   "Irish songs, authentic food, Fish and Chips, Green Beer."  The advertisement took half a page in the local paper, complete with a picture of green leprechauns and two dollar beer.  Saint Paddy's Day,  the day Brodie and I met.  Every year we returned. Four years, same bar, the same place where he first kissed me. He told me he loved my long black hair and my dark brown eyes entranced him. Same place I knew he would come to on Saint Paddy's day.  I was the only one missing.  This year he found an enchanting redhead.  What were the words he told me? "I couldn't help myself.  I met her and I realized she was everything I always wanted.  She listened to the same music I love.  She knew the band's name. Her body, skinny and taut, her dreams my dreams."  He left out the part that she was rich.  In four years he bankrupted me, emotionally and financially.  Everything was my fault.  Interesting, when he met me I wasn't rich.  I was established.  I maintained a bank account.  I had an emergency fund.  I had good credit.   Well, at least I used to have those things.  Brodie stood six foot five.  His vocabulary spoke of intelligence.  His lies were believable.     He could succeed in anything he went after.  So, why did I bring him into my house, protect him when I found out he was in trouble with the law.  Oh, heavens ----- minor things - Fraud, bad checks, according to him, misunderstandings.  Why I will never know, I bought all of his excuses.  I felt sorry for him.  I let him destroy my belief in myself.  I put him on my bank account.  I let him take out credit cards in my name.  We had a child together, a beautiful boy.   I thought I loved Brodie.   Tonight, I found childcare.    I got to "The Green Lantern" early.   I found the darkest table in the room.  I ordered fish and chips and green beer on a new credit card, one I had opened in his name, and I waited.  At 8:00 o'clock they walked in the door, The new Irish Princess, long red hair, non-fat body, along with the man who still had a bed in my home.  According to the internet, she would inherit millions.  I researched it when I found her name in his phone.  I observed his moves, the way he gently moved her hair back from her face before he kissed her, familiar to me.  I knew the stories, also known as lies, he was telling her.  I reached for the small caliber pistol in my purse.  It felt warm, inviting.  I had practiced pulling the trigger. Here, the lies began.  Now I would end them.  I reached for one of his new cards in my purse.  I left a large tip.   The night was young, so many more cards to use before tomorrow.               Author Notes Sometimes no revenge is revenge.

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