Shred of Evidence

She always said paint was cheap. And so I’d arrive home to find the kitchen yellow, the bathroom light green, or the den a different off-white. These weren’t what she called the colors, but that’s what they were nevertheless.

I didn’t mind not knowing the shade of my life from day to day as much as the commotion. Shelves removed from the walls. Furniture pushed to the center of the room. Everything covered by drop cloths.

Today she messed up. While preparing to apply a fresh coat, she knocked open the fake back of the entertainment cabinet.

I came home to find her standing over my cache with wide eyes. Bundles of white powder at her feet. Stacks of hundreds. My other gun.

She always said paint was cheap. The bright red living room will take some getting used to, but it was the only color that did the trick.