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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
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.”
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.
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