The Note

By Richard J Chalmers

Larry sat at his kitchen table in his rundown apartment. In front of him was a glass of scotch, a piece of paper and a loaded gun. All he had was the music, the night and everything in his head.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Richard J Chalmers
• Release date: Apr 10, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463370636

Richard J Chalmers

Richard J Chalmers (born October 30 1987) is a Canadian author and poet who currently resides in Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada. Richard’s literary works revolve around the themes of nature, life and death. This has lead to his work being sometimes more on the darker side of those themes. Currently his works are only available in ebook format.In 2016 Richard released two pieces of poetry. View through Haiku released April 17, 2016 and The Lighthouse at the edge of the drifting sea released June 6, 2016.In 2017 he hopes to release his first short story along with other works, follow him on Facebook for more details.

Book preview

The Note

Published by Richard J Chalmers at Smashwords

What the fuck am I missing? Thought Larry Werner as he sat at his kitchen table. He was holding a pen in one hand while he stared at a blank piece of paper in front of him. In his other hand he had a lit cigarette. He brought it to his mouth and took a deep drag off of it. He moved his hand toward the ashtray and flicked the little bit of ash from his cigarette into it. The ashtray was overflowing with the ash and butts of about two packs worth. This was pretty common habit for Larry to have his ashtrays overflowing before he emptied them.

Right beside this mountain of ash sat a glass of scotch, neat. He put the pen down and reached forward to grab the glass. Putting it to his lips he took a pause to inhale the sweet liquor. He opened his mouth and let the scotch go down his throat. The instant warming feeling brought a smile to Larry’s face. This was an occasion where he was drinking the good stuff. As Larry and anyone else knew you shouldn’t add ice to good scotch because you didn't want to water it down. Larry set the glass down again on the table. As he did this Larry’s eyes moved to the center of the table where his handgun sat there. The nozzle of the barrel staring at him in a Mexican style standoff, 7mm loaded...waiting...waiting.

Why don't I ever get things right? This questions was something that Larry had beaten himself up over for the last six years of his life. It was this question that plagued him and brought him to this evening and the decision he had made. His choice on actions tonight didn’t just happen on a whim, they had been building for a lifetime. Although no matter how much planning Larry had done leading up to this night, he still wrestled with what to put on paper. So here is where he sat pen in one hand and a blank piece of paper staring back at him wanting his words. Larry frowned at the blank paper as if it was mocking him. He thought it would have been easier to put the story onto paper.

What story was it going to be? He only had one piece in front of him so he had to be to the point. This was never a challenge for Larry as his ex-wife used to say to him that he lacked emotions and feelings in almost every situation. It was never that Larry lacked feelings, it was just that he didn’t care enough to have them towards certain people in his life. Mainly his ex-wife and his mother.

How do you describe ‘why’ to everyone when you don’t really care about them? How do you write everything that has happened to bring you to this point over the thirty eight years you’ve been alive on only one piece of paper? Larry wondered if he should grab more paper so that he could write out more stuff. He stopped himself from that thought as it was already hard to put one word down on this one piece of paper. He took another drag from his half burning cigarette and put it on the edge of the ashtray to rest.

I guess I don't have to worry about quitting now he thought to himself almost chuckling. It was something that he was nagged about for the last 15 years of his life. If it wasn't his mother harping on him about it you best believe that it was his ex-wife. The nagging from both of them, one was in his left ear, the other was the right. Larry felt like it was that moment when you are talking on your phone and had to switch to the other ear. It would be for his health or because it cost too much or they saw something on a wannabe doctor show or whatever. Larry just tuned it out after the first year. It was the only thing that his mother and ex-wife agreed on was giving him crap about everything he did in life.

Should I write that down? Dear diary my mom and ex-wife hurt my feelings. Let me add that to the cliché suicide note list. Thought Larry, he shook his head as if to answer his own question. I would hate to take up to much of this piece of paper. He took another drag on his cigarette and butted it out. It was that vice that he had always loved no matter how much bitching he heard about it from everyone. He didn't give a shit if it was bad or expensive.

It was his moment to himself.

It was his old friend.

Larry looked at the overfilled ashtray and thought