Returning Charlie

I don't understand the appeal of celebrity gossip or celebrity worship. All the wasted time and money producing and consuming these fluff news shows, magazines, websites, and loser reality "stars"... I just don't get it. Why should a celebrity or pseudo-celebrity's opinion carry any weight? It drives me up the wall to hear the latest "informed" political view from some nose-in-the-air princess from Hollywood. And this is where an awful lot of Americans get their news. Egad! Athletes, actors, writers, and musicians are entertainers, and I love them for that. Interviews about their craft, influences, and entertaining personal stories can be interesting to watch, read, or listen to. I don't want or need their slanted, out-of-touch world views, their scandals, nor do I care about their shallow club-hopping lifestyle.

Sorry about the rant, but it gets me to my point.
All this Tiger Woods stuff over the past few weeks is a perfect example of our culture's obsession with celebrity. I did, at least, get one thing out of this over-saturated "news" story. It reminded me of one of my old story ideas. Here's the gist of it.


June 12, 2006.

Jenny suspected the affair. Charlie came home late. Jenny slammed the pan into Charlie’s head. He fell. He bled. Jenny could not find a pulse. She was scared. She decided that she would sink the body in the lake and call the police to file a missing person report.
Charlie’s body was sprawled across the kitchen floor. Jenny covered it with a blanket and pulled the kitchen shades down. She changed out of her blood spattered clothes and went to the all-night SuperStore for some murder cover-up supplies. When Jenny returned home, Charlie was gone. Jenny hasn’t had a good night’s sleep in a long, long time.

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