The
radio
Sitting by the window the old man looked down at the lines
of students pouring out of the school. He could imagine what they were saying;
this one talking about a girl he liked, that one discussing today’s
assignments, that one complaining about an annoying sibling. He could always
use the radio to listen in on their secrets if he felt so inclined, to hear
what truths they hid even from their friends but he had no interest in a
child’s secrets, not even a teenager’s.
Laughing softly he considered himself quite content to gorge
on the secrets of his fellow teachers. Absentmindedly stroking the radio he
thought blissfully of the tidy little nest egg he’d earned blackmailing them.
It’d been so easy and fun writing all those letters and leaving them by their
desks detailing each carefully concealed sin.
He was tempted to listen in tonight. To sit at his desk and
entertain himself with their black deeds but his wife would be furious with him
if he missed another dinner. He was just about to turn off his desk light when
he thought he heard a foot step outside. It was surprising because he’d been so
certain there’d be no one in the building this late.
“Hello,” he called out. “Is someone out there?”
There was silence for a moment and then static erupted from
the radio.
“I have a gun,” a male voice on the radio said.
“What?” The old man stared at the radio in shock.
“I mean to kill him,” it continued.
The old man gripped the arms of his chair and whirled around
when the door knob began to turn.
“Who’s there?” he shouted.
“I don’t want to do it but he needs to die,” the voice
sobbed.
The old man leapt from his chair looking from the radio to
the door. The door opened and in the darkness of the corridor outside he spied
the barrel of a small gun.
“I’m sorry,” that same voice told him as the gun roared in
his hands.
The old man didn’t feel the bullet that ended his life but
he did notice that the radio had finally gone silent.
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