Readers Gazette Short Stories


Short Story The Sugar Bowl

The Sugar Bowl by Vinnie Sorce Action short story

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Jack held the gun in his left hand. It was an old revolver that he’d purchased on E-bay several years before. The metal gleamed in the dull light, and it smelled of oil. He held it up to Hildie’s head. “Are you ready to tell me what I want to know?”



Hildie looked up at him with searing eyes, “Not on your life,” she whispered.



Jack stayed silent while circling the table, still pointing the revolver at Hildie. He examined the room closely. One bare bulb brought minimal lighting to the space. The floor was worn linoleum with a 1950’s feel. The cabinets were solid wood painted white, now faded and shabby. The metal table had two place settings ready for breakfast. The appliances were avocado green, and as aged as the rest of the room.



“I just want a simple answer. Why won’t you tell me?”



“I see no reason to tell you anything you disgusting leech.”



Jack circled back to her chair and stood behind her. Hildie couldn’t see it but he made a fist and wound up. At the last minute he pulled back his punch and holstered his fist for reasons he did not understand. As much as he loved this woman he hated her.



“Why is this so hard? All I want is the answer to a very simple question.” Jack bent at the waist close to Hildie’s ear, “Are you ready to tell me what I want to know?”



Hildie turned to face him. She screamed, “NO!” And spat in his face.



Jack paused, stunned for a second. He wiped the spittle from his face with the back of his hand. He stood up to his full five foot five inch height and placed his foot on Hildie’s chair. He shoved his foot forward with full force, and the chair slid across the floor colliding with the counter without Hildie. She stood up halfway through the ride and stayed silent. Jack walked to her and pointed the gun at her forehead. “I’m not going to ask again. Are you ready to tell me what I want to know?”



Hildie stood like a statue staring straight ahead looking past the gun, looking past Jack, looking past everything wondering how she could love a man like this. Jack got impatient, and his gun hand started to shake. He removed his itchy trigger finger as to not shoot in error but pushed the gun farther into her forehead. Hildie’s eyes narrowed on the gun barrel, and her body tightened. Jack smiled at finally getting the old hag to react. Hildie’s mouth finally moved, “I’m not telling you anything,” she said with conviction, and then kicked him hard in the shin.



Jack dropped his weapon to the floor and grabbed his shin like this would somehow stop the pain. Hildie bent to the floor and recovered the revolver. She walked slowly to the drawer next to the cast iron sink and put it away where it belonged. She slid the orphaned chair back to the table and took her seat.



Jack hopped over to the chair opposite her and sat down. “Dammit ma, why do we have to go through this every morning? All I want to know is where the sugar bowl is…”

To see more of Vinnie Sorce, click the link to his website or scroll down to the bottom of the page to view his member details
Visit Cirque de Sorce

Images used for the story are Sugar Spoon at Pixabay

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Short Story written by Vinnie

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