Cliche (flash fiction)

Cliché

He picked up his hat and headed for the door.
“You’re not going out tonight James. You won’t be a part of that horrible thing they are planning.”
“I’m a grown man,” he said. “I can make my own decisions.”
He turned to face her and watched as she got up off the kitchen chair and slowly raised the gun to the level of his heart. Her voice was calm and her hand was steady.
“I’m your Mother James. I brought you into this world and I can certainly take you out. Now supper is ready. You sit and eat with me.”
“Yes’m” he replied.