She has a name. I never knew it.
Her butter knife spread his ribcage. Tables turned.
His costume was welcome everywhere but in public.
His betrayal came in silken words of affirmation.
He couldn’t overlook her scars; neither could she.
The wolf was hired by the brick-house pig.
The grumpy cloud rained on their happy parade.
Locked chains. Underwater. Explosives. Evil madman. Normal day.
Hospitals need nurses but she couldn’t find work.
“She hates you”
“I never asked for more.”
“She never loved you.”
“That never really mattered.”
“You can’t handle the truth.”
“Tell me lies.”
She fell to the floor screaming, “NO NAP!”
Four men walked in. One man left alive.
He smelled her perfume in the man’s apartment.
The seat remained up.
And so he wept.
The partnership dissolved amicably into an awkward enmity.
She held his hand until the beeping stopped.
Pigs ate body. No evidence left. Job done.
“We’re going to see Mom?”
“Yes,” Dad lied.