Tragedy: Under 100 words

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

The knife is sinking in her chest like she is made of butter.

Blood splashing on me with each flailing beat of her heart, in rhythm with the clock.

She always said that there has never been another man in her life.


It’s not so warm now.

I read the letter yet again.

Mrs. Patel,
Congratulations on your wedding.
Your child has already been adopted.
We can’t disclose any other information...

And she wouldn’t let me touch her before marriage.


I wipe the blood off the date-stamp.


What? Wait a second!

The clock ticks away.

©2010 by Chhaya. All rights reserved

Inspired by a crazy phone that delivers a text, hours/days after it’s sent
image is googled

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