The Wall of Winnipeg and Me

by Mariana Zapata

I was going to murder his ass. One day. One day long after I quit, so no one would suspect me.

He was lucky I had a tiny, itty-bitty crush on him; otherwise, he would have gotten the shank years ago.

What no one tells you is that the road to accomplishing your goals isn’t a straight line; it looks more like a corn maze. You stopped, you went, you backed up, and took a few wrong turns along the way, but the important thing you had to remember was that there was an exit. Somewhere. You just couldn’t give up looking for it, even when you really wanted to.

Hot guys weren’t going to make my dreams come true.

I only had this one life to live, and I didn’t really want to sit back and not accomplish the things I wanted. It was time, damn it.

“I guess,” I added just because the sight of him made me pretty bitchy.

I was dreaming. That probably wasn’t the best word to use. Nightmaring? Delusional, maybe?

“Why not?” Why not? Men. It was only freaking men who would be so . . . so dumb.

“I don’t want someone new. I want you.”

“Touch my wife again and I’ll break every bone in your goddamn body.”