Brief Scene

John walked up to the porch steps, arriving home later than usual because of an emergency patient call, He couldn't wait to see Grace and Blake. They always made him smile: they were his pride and joy. But then he saw Karen walking to the door to greet him, and her way of greeting him was asking for more money. What a long hallway that is.
One.
Johnny, she called him, in that shrill, piercing voice of hers. The voice that he had provided a beautiful home and a wonderful life for. Buy why? Why did he not realize before the vows were made that this megaphone of a woman would be the sole reason for his unhappiness? He smelled the surprise that Peanut left and she failed to clean up from the lawn.
Two.
Peanut was a good dog. John picked him out of the litter. Loyal, obedient, and quiet: not like Karen. He looked down: he was clenching his fists again. He always did that when he heard, saw or though of Karen. As he was looking, he noticed the breast pocket of his shirt was torn. The patient seized and must have ripped it off in her fit. A fit like that is better than a fit from Karen. He wanted to kill her.
Three.
He could kill her. He could kill her now. The scalpel was in his bag. One quick slit to the jugular vein would lead to a fatal loss of blood. John was 45, he was a man, and he was perfectly capable of killing someone. It would be easy. But he couldn't. Blake and Grace would never love him again. And if he had to live without the love of his children, he wouldn't LIVE at all.