A Messy Divorce
An entry for the May 2023 Microfiction Challenge
Henry glanced at his favourite armchair. Someone had draped it with a heavy quilt. Behind him, a floor board creaked. He was turning when Eleanor stabbed him in the liver. The shock drove him backward into the chair. Eleanor stood over her husband, still as a statue, gazing intently at the blood-soaked knife in her hand. Her reverie broke only as Henry tried to stand. She pushed him back down, her touch gentle but firm. “Now Darling. You wouldn’t want to bleed on the carpet, would you?” she asked, sweetly.
Her smile was radiant as she slit his throat.
About the Creator
Martin Estridge
Occasional actor, infrequent writer, amateur photographer, aspiring electrician.
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