She looked out the window again at the fresh dirt on the football field. Maybe it
was the wine, or maybe it was decades of denial suddenly disappearing, but Nancy was
realizing that she’d done some terrible, terrible things. She couldn’t stand herself.
She’d be like that Judas guy and take herself out. And be remembered.
She staggered around and looked for a way to do the deed. She remembered that the
food contractor had given her a gun for a gift. It was a fancy, shiny one, still in
its box. She remembered where it was and went and to get it. She picked up the box,
opened it, and looked at the gun. There were bullets in the box. She closed the box
and breathed a heavy breath. She took the pistol box with her and slowly walked out
to the football field.