Roses

By Zachary Wilhide

 

       Vicky stood over the kitchen sink, hands beneath the water, letting the warmth flow into her and push out the vitriol she still felt for him. He’d brought her roses—he knew she hated roses— to apologize for the purple blossom of a bruise below her left eye. She’d smiled through a cracked lip, told him it was alright.  His eye had twitched when she gut-stuck him with the knife. He’d dropped like a sack of mulch. The roses fell and scattered; the petals floating in the pool of blood, rudderless on the red-river Styx.

                                      END

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     Zachary Wilhide is a writer and artist who lives in Virginia Beach, VA with his wife and cats.  He has previously had stories published in Spelk Fiction, Close to the Bone, Yellow Mama Webzine, and Shotgun Honey, among others.  His art currently resides at https://www.deviantart.com/whytedevil.”

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Hillary Lyon founded and for 20 years acted as senior editor for the independent poetry publisher, Subsynchronous Press. Her horror, speculative fiction, and crime short stories, drabbles, and poems have appeared in more than 150 publications. She's an SFPA Rhysling Award nominated poet. Hillary is also the art director for Black Petals.