John Mathis was going to murder his wife, and he knew just how to go about it. He saved this thought as he gripped the armrests of his chair, pushed his thin frame upright, and moved fastly across the living room. His fingers moved impatiently before he could push the front door open to face an early morning cloudless sky and feel a light breeze stream into the room.
"Better bring a jacket.and don't forget your kit," John called out turning to face his wife with a look of weird concern. "Not likely to meet a bee, but no sense taking chances," he said in his thin, precise voice. Like John, Mary was in her late twenties, trim figured, and looked taller than him, but that was just the way she carried herself when she walked. She replied, "You take care of me very well, John. He smiled his secret smile. That's just what I plan to do, he told himself. Mary smiled as she walked out the doorway. "Oh look, its Robert". She waved to him. He had an old sweatshirt and faded jeans walking into their condo.
"So it is," John mumbled irritated. He stiffened up greatly, his face frowning with resentment as he watched their tall, solidly built neighbor return the wave and quicken his pace towards them. Robert Smith came in the door and John's eyes widened in suspicion as he watched Robert hug Mary. John saw the obvious pleasure she got from that hug. An uncomportably long time passed before Smith suddenly remembered where he was and shook John's hand. "How goes it, John?" John got up to his full height, and forced an interested smile. "It goes just fine," he said. We were just about to.
.
But Smith had already turned back to Mary, "So what have you two been up to?" John spurted out before Mary could reply, "We were just leaving for a walk along the river path. Mary noticed that John wanted to go right away and was looking forward to this. "I'm afraid John has got his mind set on this." "Hey, you guys go right on ahead," Robert said.
