A Pure Conscience.

This is in response to a prompt please press here to  read or join this weeks #58 at the  secretkeeper.net and join the prompt poem or flash fiction to include the words below.

harm- deep- act- stare- loss.

She led him a merry dance with her act of deep love; though she’d say she meant him no harm. Kath had no conscience, no fear of loss, she thought her husband immune to the gossip. The woman had no preference, male or female, she’d batt her eyes, flick her hair and stare longingly. The stage was set, her act off to a tee, with a lift of her head and a pout, she dropped her frillies and took the reward. He would give her everything she asked for and much besides, his own Mother, called him weak; until he up and surprised them all.

“Where you been Kath? No, don’t tell me close yer lyin mouth, NOW!” Tom pushed her back, stunned, her bum hit the chair with a thump. Kath adjusted her blouse and leant forward in one action. “Tom”, she patted the seat beside her, “Come on you know it don’t mean nuffin”. Her eyes wide as her tongue flicked her top lip, she wriggled exposing her breast. “You girl, are a piece of work, how I thought you’d change… You must think I’m stupid”. Tom weaving like a horse in its box, flushed, wiped his sweaty face with the back of his hand, and twitched. “Cover yourself, I don’t need to see what you ave for sale”.

His eyes screwed up, his face contorted and his lip curled as he spat and threw a pile of pictures at her, “I’ve seen enough, you are no more than an ole brass”. Tom dragged her down the path, she clung to the gate- post sobbing. Kath with her hair a mess, blouse torn, and black runs from her puffy eyes, begged forgiveness to no avail.

 Daisy next door just happened to tend to a stray weed in the lawn; she heard it all. Over the weeks she was telling any who would listen, how she sat minding her own business, in her own house when she heard and saw…  She told how Tom gathered the slut’s life up in green sacks and sent her clothes after her, and that he was a broken man.

 Daisy told him he was brave and stroked his back when she consoled him. But didn’t say, it was she who put photos in Tom’s van. Or that she gave her nephew money, he who’d just done time for pinching lead off the church roof. Paid him money to take Kath down the backs; where she took the shots; artistic they were. Tom believed she was honest with her affection, her conscience pure; he after all couldn’t pick another conniving slut for his bride… “Could he”?

Did you know what was coming, could you feel the deceit, what is your opinion of Daisy?  Id love to have your view of my flash. leave me a comment i will get right back.