Temper Temper

Temper Temper

A Story by Rich

Not a serial killer manifesto but rather internal fantasy in a civilized society.



                                                          Temper Temper

  My body reacts and my mind races to catch up.  I try to ignore the signs but I know this has its own will. My pulse quickens and I feel my face flush. I try to remain in control, measured and thoughtful; though I recognize its awakening. My voice begins to rise, ever so slightly, while my sense of logic is grasping and fighting to hold the lid on tightly. I am reluctant at being forced into this aggressive and destructive posture. I wipe my hand slowly over my face and I massage that odd little tick that is developing under my left eye. I take a deep breath, lick my lips and try not to be swept along. I already realize that my civilized and socially acceptable demeanor will lose this battle. Outmatched and losing sight of any good reason to struggle, my acceptable, thoughtful demeanor begins to cascade. I don’t want to do this but I am powerless to stop it.

  Then it happens; that very last insult or deed that extinguishes all hope of a peaceful withdrawal. You crossed a long held principle or boundary with your carelessness, so now I must destroy you. The contest between reason and rage has been decided. My ability to choose has been ripped from my grasp and the savage within has been untethered. As soon as this internal battle is lost, resigned and accepting of the change, a new alliance is formed. The strength of rage envelopes the mind and they combine to form a blade. Years of sharpening, honing, perfecting this blade, in countless battles won and lost, together with my instincts, have become formidable. Rage has all of the momentum and is now in full stride. “Take out thy sword and smite thine enemies”, immediately comes to mind. Razor cuts for your miscalculations, body blows for your foolishness and a coup de grace for forcing me to release this beast….my beast, a beast that you now realize is better left to lie in wait, better left to brood in his fragile cage.

  Subsequent to your untimely death, no kind words will be said over you. No honor or acknowledgement of your position will be given. You will not be regarded as anything more than an annoyance, properly dispatched.  The beast has no remorse at your passing. 

© 2016 Rich

My Review

Would you like to review this Story?
Login | Register

Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Added on August 29, 2016
Last Updated on August 29, 2016
Tags: Old English, Humor



Belton, TX

Beginning....at last. more..

Idi Amin Dada Idi Amin Dada

A Story by Rich

Lessons. Lessons.

A Poem by Rich