A Chance Meeting by Greg Roberts

“I coulda killed the bitch and been outta jail by now,” Marty said, exhaling grey smoke through his nose and thumping ashes into the overflowing ashtray on the bar. “Coulda made it look like an accident, like she fell or something.”

“The cops know when you try to make it look like an accident,” I said. It never ceased to amaze me what people will say to a complete fucking stranger in a bar.

“Did I tell you she was fucking my cousin? She won’t admit it, but I know she was. Neighbor told me he was over there all the time, when I wasn’t home. I called him on it, he said he was fixin’ this or fixin’ that, shit I couldn’t or wouldn’t fix. The only thing that sumbitch was fixin’ was her.”

“Damned shame,” I said.

“I whipped his ass, right in front of his ol’ lady. Told her what was goin’ on with him and Charlene, too. She didn’t believe me, but she’s a stupid bitch anyways. Never was too bright.”