I can’t say I don’t deserve it, after everything I put her through, but death seems harsh.
I don’t even like the thing. I only stuck it on the bookcase because she was coming round. She insisted I keep it. She had bought it for me after all, on our first anniversary.
And I thought she was smiling because the divorce papers were finally signed.
That sympathetic peck on the cheek as she was leaving, the hand lingering on my shoulder… They take on a new meaning now.
The tentacles of the plant wrap themselves tighter. The world goes dark.
Written as part of the Friday Fictioneers challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (more details HERE). The idea is to write a short story of 100 words based on the photo prompt (above).
To read stories of 100 words based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.
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