By Tim Craig
When they are halfway home, the little boy reaches between the front seats to show his father what he found at the beach. It is an old hand grenade, covered in sand. His father tells him in a strange, quiet voice to drop it out of the window. Right now. The boy does so and the grenade bounces twice before exploding on the car behind, killing the driver. The life insurance company later refuses to pay out, successfully arguing in court that the explosion was an Act of War—albeit a delayed one—and therefore, not covered by the driver’s policy.
How utterly heartbreaking for everyone.
Hello Tim,
Kudos. With lawyers and investigators being what they are, there is certainly more to this cool story.
Dynamite story with a tongue-in-cheek title that kills me, pun intended.
This took a turn. Lovely beginning. Tragic ending. Somehow made me think of Plymouth, Southwest of England.
Riveted in anticipation with the first sentence. Imagining, a lost puppy? Hermit crab? Condom? Great story!
Oh wow! Is it wrong that I laughed at this? Poor sap in the car behind—wrong place, wrong time. I enjoyed this story and the jab at insurance policies. They always find a way to wiggle out of paying.
You put so much into 100 words. Loved it.
Cool, bitter sarcasm. Which I like.