This story was inspired by Australian Speculative Fiction's weekly contest and has been published on their flash fiction page along with even more brain-altering reads. Five minutes to spare? Read on.
Photo by Sweet Ice Cream Photograph
Bruce leant back in his office chair and selected a Gurkha from the humidor. Cigar prepped, he drew in a mouthful of the sweet and creamy smoke. It had been one helluva day. Now though, life couldn’t get any better.
Mary was down in the kitchen. Literally, as ‘on the floor down’.
She’d been good for a while, but frankly, he was already bored after the initial excitement of showing off his new wife to his friends. It was just little things at first, like not feeling the electricity when he woke to see her pretty face next to him. Then things got real.
Mary, his wife and freaking possession goddamnit, was getting above her station. She wanted to hang out with the other wives. She demanded to be taken on luxury holidays all the time. Not that he couldn’t afford it, but he chose how he spent his money.
So today he had reminded her.
First he lured Mary into a sweet mood with a promise of first class tickets to a luxury resort in French Polynesia. Then his pièce de resistance. He grinned when he recalled telling her to put her hand into an open tin of coffee granules for another surprise. Excited, she asked him if was the diamond necklace she had been dropping hints about? Maybe, he had said, leaning against the doorway.
Her hand plunged in, fuelled by greed. Before she could react, a deafening crack dismembered her in a cloud of purple vapour and gas. He was impressed. Nitrogen triiodide had saved the day. He approached with care, avoiding the brown powder.
Crouching down, he plucked the mangled CPU out of her chest. Another one for the collection.
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