Loose Ends

I wrote this short story two years ago. I've been toying with revising it for trifecta. It was originally 600 words, so--for me--this week was more of an editing challenge than a writing challenge.

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photo borrowed from deaddictioncentres.in

 

Julie had chosen pills. The face bloat and possibility of shitting herself ruled out hanging. There was no tragic reason behind Julie’s decision to kill herself. She was just bored. Bored with work, bored with the tiny house she’d bought with her tiny divorce settlement, bored with being alone.

On the way to work, she mailed the letters.

Dear Sis,

… Please wear black, and cover your boobs for once ...

 

The office was still vacant, except for Coughing Carl six cubicles away. Without even setting down her purse, Julie forwarded to the entire company all the saved messages proving her boss is an addle-brained, idea-stealing asshole.

 

For breakfast, Julie splurged on a sausage McGriddle (with cheese) and a (non-diet) Coke. Lunch would be a handful of barbiturates.

 

Julie’s mom was working, but Mick (her mother's fifth boyfriend in three years) was home. While he put on coffee, Julie pressed her breasts into his back. He protested … until she grabbed his crotch. As Mick wiggled around on top of her, Julie preoccupied herself by watching an insect crawl along a crack between two floorboards.

Driving away, she almost felt sorry for Mick. When her mother receives Julie’s letter, he’ll surely be out on the curb. But schtupping her mom’s boyfriend was perfect revenge for a childhood of moving whenever her mother met “the one.”

Julie hadn’t planned an elaborate scenario for her ex-husband. When he came to the lobby of his building, she calmly kicked him in the junk with her square-toed boot. As he collapsed, Julie thanked the stunned receptionist.

She showered, dressed and straightened her hair so it would fan out nicely on her pillow. She applied light makeup. Then she washed down the pills with vodka.

When Julie opened her eyes, the nurse standing over her motioned down the hall. A police officer walked in.

“We found you unresponsive when we came to arrest you,” the cop explained. “It’s a good thing your ex-husband reported the assault. You could’ve died.”
 

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This week's trifecta writing challenge: The entry must be 33-333 words and include the word "crack," as defined below:

CRACK
3a : a narrow break : fissure <a crack in the ice>
  b : a narrow opening <leave the door open a crack><cracks between floorboards> —used figuratively in phrases like fall through the cracks to describe one that has been improperly or inadvertently ignored or left out <a player who fell through the cracks in the college draft> <children slipping through the cracks of available youth services>

Word count: 333