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Revenge is a trait which can be found in each of us to some extent, but for many it is a dominant force, a motivator toward such personal or commercial gains as wealth and power. This same characteristic, however, frequently steers us to downfall. Consider, for example, the corporation which has fallen behind its competition. Motivated, perhaps, by revenge, it may seek to override a desperate situation through tactics contrary to acceptable business practice, and thus initiates its own destruction. On the personal level, there is the woman whose desire for revenge acts against personal beliefs and common sense, leading to family and individual demise.
WIDE OPEN WIFE is the story of a young woman who finds herself in a trying and nearly desperate circumstance wrought by her husband’s infidelity. Oblivious to counsel and better judgement, Lucy Preston is driven toward family and self-destruction. Nothing is too degrading or too foul to awaken her from her pursuit of revenge. Using people as pawns in a chess game, she plots a losing battle in a hopeless cause.
WIDE OPEN WIFE is a serious portrayal of a common occurrence, a story which teaches us the virtues of revenge are seldom as hopeful and promising as we presume. This story holds a lesson for society and the individual.
The night was so warm that the door of the bar had been left open. Something vaguely country western-rock was on the juke box, spilling loud sound into the neon-lit night as a man and a woman came out the door.
“My car’s over here,” the man said, one arm slipping around the woman’s waist. She let him lead her, moving voluptuously against his encircling arm, but there were many little clues in their behavior that indicated they had just met — the man’s quick glances and the cautious breeziness of the woman.
The car was a large station wagon, the rear two-thirds of it jammed with boxes and cases. “I’m a salesman,” he explained as he ushered her into the front seat with almost exaggerated courtesy, then went around and got in the driver’s side.
“By the way… I didn’t catch your name,” the man said as he shut his door and turned to look at the woman.
“I didn’t throw it your way,” she said coolly. There was a short silence during which the man digested her answer.
“My name’s Tom,” he finally said. “Tom Preston. And you’re…”
“I’m your pick-up for the night,” she said curtly. “I don’t like names. I’ve forgotten yours already.”
Fictional reading for entertainment purposes only.
Note: This story is the same as catalog number TB-1039 in the original publications (a duplicate).