In very few of these iterations am I personally involved. I am not myself entirely certain if it is out of cowardice of the consequences or if because it would be lost on her that she had wrought such hatred from her callousness. Rather the justice would be more self evident of it were a moose running out in front of her on the highway during her commute home just as she glances down at her mobile for an incoming text. She would reflexively swerve quickly and violently enough to upend her light expensive sports car. It would spin along it's axel mid air, bouncing a few times before landing in the grassy meridian between the traffic in the opposite direction. The simplicity and impossibility of the event would reel in her mind in the brief seconds before for anguishing end. What hurt had she done that the universe would do this to her and she would know. Whereas if I had been the one to wield an axe to the centre of her pompous brow, she would continue to believe that she was but an innocent occupant of a stage and not the villain she is. Yes, it is important she know and regret. Though it needn't be a moose. Seems unfair to the moose. It could be a skunk. That would add an additional layer of comical flare to the unfolding scene subsequent. The first responders arriving to douse what is already a hopeless fatal scene, are hesitant to approach because of the wretched stench that is the fumes of the poor skunk and the burning flesh of the she witch.
Such things, as dark as they might seem, have been a past time of mine since childhood after a fat, frumpy commuting racist, pushed me aside at the turnstyles in the subway spitting an uninspired racial slur at me while I hesitated slightly on my entry. I spent months dreaming about what I should have said if I weren't just a small, immigrant kid, months.
