Lazybones

10 AUGUST, 1976

It was the first time in a long while that he'd seen anything at all register on her face. He wasn't expecting a reaction, but it tickled him nevertheless. To see her jaw drop a little, watch her eyes widen when she saw his hand tighten around the base of the lamp…

'Please,' she said. Please…

In the few seconds that he held the lamp high above his head, he thought about the different uses of that word. The meanings that it could take on. Its many, subtle varieties, conjured by the tiniest changes in emphasis. He thought about the number of ways it could mislead. Please don't.

Please do.

Please don't stop doing..

Please me. Pleasure me. Please…

Pleading for it.

As he brought the lamp down with every ounce of strength he had, he thought that, all in all, it was a pretty appropriate word. For her very last. At least, the way she meant it now, it was honest. With each successive blow he became more focused, his thinking becoming less cluttered until finally, when she was unrecognisable, he could remember where in the garage he'd last seen the tow rope.