Bambi, A Short Story

I got a soft spot for Bambis.

There's a deer on my porch, carrying a picnic basket. I open the door for it.

"I believe this is yours." She hand the basket to me, her lips smile like they ain't sure how. "Johnny loved it. Kept going on about how it was the best pot roast and pecan pie he ever had."

She tuck her arm across her waist, and let her eyes fall for a second.

"I let him believe I made it."

Bambi got a little sense. I glance in the basket. She done washed all my dishes. Deer got manners, too.

"I know who you are. Who your husband was." Her doe eyes find mine. "What did it feel like when you shot him?"

I watch her, until I see it. Something in her stare die a little. I wave her inside.

Guess I got a soft spot for Bambis, too.