'Til Death by Shannon Schuren

The foot washed up just down the beach from the hotel where we’d planned to spend our wedding night. If I squinted, I imagined I could still make out the trail where I’d dragged my beaded satin train through the saltwater and sand, screaming his name.

“Is it his?” the cop asked.

I nodded, baring my own ankle to show off its twin A week of submersion had distorted the image, though I could still make out the stem of the rose, the blood red now faded to a hazy purple, the words ‘til death’ blurred into one amorphous blob.

“I did them myself. They were meant to be his wedding gift.”

But then John had disappeared before the service.

Along with my bridesmaid.

“That’s unfortunate.” His voice was hard and cold, like the metallic bite of the handcuffs. “Because according to the coroner, the tattoo was done post-mortem.”


Shannon Schuren lives in Sheboygan Falls, Wisconsin with her husband and three children. She works at a child-care center and finds writing both emotionally rewarding and a great way to avoid murdering her relatives. Her short stories have appeared in Toasted Cheese Literary Journal and Mysteryauthors.com, and will appear in upcoming issues of Big Pulp and the Ultra-Short edition of The Binnacle.

4 comments:

Christopher Pimental said...

This one brought a smile to my face. What happens when writing no longer squelches the urge to kill relatives? I'm just axin?

bradleycarroll said...

Nice. And I'm always a little jealous when someone can tell a complete story in as few words as this. Very nice.

Shannon Schuren said...

Thanks, guys. I'm just glad to be in such talented company. And Chris, in answer to your question, I guess there's always Valium or prison. Both have their perks.

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