Tastin' like a raindrop

It was a long time coming. I'd traveled, married. Some of my friends were bound to be jealous of my successes.

But, when I left him dead on that mountain, I thought I'd seen the end of it.

He'd literally tried to stab me in the back after a hard win... I was feeling weak. Another took the blow.

My friends weren't around anymore, so I thought I'd just go home. I could spend time with my wife, raise a family... you know.

Six months passed, and I was on my way. The family business was up and running. My wife was beginning to look in a family way. And I was happy. I don't know when I noticed. I just... was.

Anyway, I came home from work one day, and my wife wasn't downstairs in the kitchen like she is usually. Was. Sorry.

Anyway, this feeling comes over me. I forget what it was... not panic exactly, but like something is wrong.

I found her, of course. She was upstairs, on the floor. It's still a hard memory, so you'll excuse me if I don't go into detail. I called her dad first, I wasn't thinking clearly, but it worked out... as much as it could.

She'd been dead an hour.

The local cops found some evidence on my former friend... he'd left a few calling cards behind, practically signed his name the way the work was done. But there was no way they could get him. We'd traveled the same circles, and he'd be well away before anything could be set up to catch him.

It would take someone else. Someone like me.

But vengeance was no longer my thing.

I'd looked for peace, and death provided it.