A Bottle of Wine (standard:drama, 561 words)
Author: kendall thomas	Added: Dec 13 2000	Views/Reads: 3980/1	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A man has a strange, recurring dream.

A Bottle of Wine 

~No good deed ever goes unpunished~ 

* * * 

Max sat up suddenly in bed. 

“What’s the matter, honey?” his wife asked sleepily. 

“I had that same dream again,” Max groaned.  “I’m watching TV when I
doze off and I’m awakened by a knock at the door.  When I open the door 
it’s the police with a warrant to arrest me for murder.” 

“Well, honey, I wouldn’t let it bother me,” his wife said.  “It’s
probably just a problem your having with your job and your subconscious 
is merely trying to work it out.  Or maybe it’s something you ate 
that’s bothering you.” 

“Maybe,” Max shrugged, but he wasn’t convinced.  It seemed too real.  It
was almost as if instead of a dream he had been peering into the 
future.  But it was absurd.  There was no one he wanted to kill.  A few 
people at work he didn”t particularly care to be around, but no one he 
couldn’t tolerate.  In fact, he was happy with his job and life in 
general. 

Perhaps if his wife were cheating on him..., but he knew she would never
do that. 

* 

Uneventful days came and went.  Max went to work at eight and came home
at five, ate supper, then, as was his habit, stretched out on the sofa 
to watch an endless series of  sporting events until he would nod off.  
And each time he did, the dream would return to assail him. 

It was infuriating, distressing.  There was no logic to it...no rhyme or
reason. 

The dream was the only blight on his otherwise smoothly running
existence.  Yet there seemed to be no solution. 

Perhaps, he thought one day--at the end of his mental rope, he should
consult a phychiatrist, but the idea made him feel uncomfortable.  It 
would be like admitting that he had a mental problem, and he would 
never do that.  What if it were to get out that he’d seen a shrink?  
People--friends--would shun him like the plague.  Think him odd. 

No.  He would tough it out.  The dreams couldn’t go on forever.  He
wouldn’t give in! 

* 

One day, on his way home, he stopped at a corner store to buy a bottle
of wine.  As he picked up the last bottle of his favorite vintage left 
on the rack, he noticed a woman standing close by eyeing the same 
bottle. He smiled and handed it to her with a nod.  His good deed for 
the day. 

That night Max dozed off on the sofa again and was suddenly awakened by
a loud pounding on the door.  Only this time it wasn’t a dream, for it 
went on after he was awake. 

When he opened the door he was confronted by the police who told him
that they had a warrant for his arrest on the charge of murder. 

Max’s wife, aroused from her sleep, was almost hysterical.  Max was
astounded--numbed. 

“But it’s not possible,” he protested.  “There must be some mistake.” 

“No mistake, buddy,” a tough-looking cop said.  “We found your prints
all over a bottle of wine lying in a pool of blood next to the body of 
a Miss Dora Pritchard at 3133 Oak St.  She’d been bludgeoned to death.  
We ran the prints and--bingo!--came up with a perfect match from a DUI 
you incurred several years ago.” 

~Will 


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