Oh hey, remember when Kurt was KIDNAPPED BY A SERIAL KILLER??

I woke up out in the living room.

It was 3am, and I was looking for Kurt. I was still only half awake, but I got the impression that I had been searching for a while.

Where the heck was he??

By now I was about 3/4 awake, and starting to panic. He wasn't in the bathroom, He wasn't on the balcony, and HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO SAVE HIM FROM A HUSBAND-KILLING-CEREAL-KILLER???

I can't even keep people from peeing in my trash can!

I rushed around calling "Kurt?? Where are you??" at the top of my lungs.

There was no answer.

I stumbled into the bedroom, and grabbed for my phone. That's when I noticed it- the foot sticking out from under the bed.

THE DISMEMBERED FOOT.

No, wait. False alarm. There was a leg attached to it.

I crept around the bed, bracing myself for the giant puddle of blood seeping into the carpet (What? I've seen Law & Order).

But instead I saw this:

It was not cute.

"KURT. GET YOUR BUTT BACK IN BED."

He didn't move.

I kicked him.

Nothing.

"NOW, KURT. GET IN BED NOW."

I stood there shaking from the aftermath of that adrenaline, still kind of worried that he might be dead.

He had better not be dead.

After a few minutes he started moving and mumbling. Then he climbed back into bed, completely oblivious to my fury.

And I was furious. I'm pretty sure he tried to cuddle me, but I just shoved him away.

Looking back, I feel kinda bad for how angry I was. All he had wanted was to roll off the bed and cuddle his pillow in peace.

But at the time, it was all I could do to not kill him myself.

He has to be doing this on purpose.

Husbands are jerks.



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This post was inspired by Mama Kat's weekly writing prompts. I mean, it just happened, but who knows when I would have gotten around to writing it if it hadn't been for prompt #3.

I'm linking it to her Writer's Workshop.

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