I stared at my client, debating internally how to respond. It wasn’t the first time I’d been asked to perform a questionable task in my line of work. Normally I would refuse, but she was offering 50,000 dollars.

She was bluffing. The fact that she was asking me to murder her husband said that she didn’t have anywhere else to turn. But then again, where else was I going to make 50,000 dollars as a gardener?

After the day’s hard work I returned to my hut. In the corner slept my 9-year-old daughter, abused recently by rich boys. My fisherman husband had strayed far into the sea. Hungry I walked to the corner of the hut. There was a tomato and two slices of stale bread. I made a soup. The bread, I broke it down to crumbs. Counting one for one suffered sorrow, I drowned it in the soup. I and my girl sipped it as long as possible, in silence, wishing all the sorrows would drown the same way in this crumb of life.

From Guest Contributor Thriveni C. Mysore

Lisa found a pallid yellow seed on her pillow. She rolled it between her finger and thumb, speculating that if planted, a good husband would grow. One that didn’t drink or stay out all night. One that wouldn’t smoke, swear, shout and scold. Her man would come, different to the others.

The seed cracked and an ocher fluid seeped onto Lisa’s fingers. She licked at it as the crack repaired itself. The fluid was hot on her tongue. It erased all the thoughts she had of the perfect spouse and replaced them with images of sleeping pills and razor blades.

From Guest Contributor, Horrorshow

She holds two swords of societal success. Her career of achievement, her marriage of love realized. Nice house, nicer car. The look that men look at – even her husband. Meditative dreams on summer days under a comforter of cool breezes. Still, one regret reflects the swords’ sharp edges. Cut her caesarean style – deep as you like; take out the child she cannot carry… his son. The single thing she cannot give him. Justice, she feels, is not in the cards for her. She seeks to be satiated through gluttonous eyes. Where are maternity clothes, the infant boy she must steal?

From Guest Contributor. Keith Hoerner

Keith lives, teaches, and pushes words around in St. Louis, Missouri.

“Tell me what happened.”

“So do you want to get married?”

Part Eight

Selena took a cigarette from Stan with a nervous smile. It was likely too late to ingratiate herself. He knew why she was on the run and he was going to use the situation to his advantage.

Selena had never liked Stan. And she had been the one to get him fired.

Part Three

He used to be a loving husband and father, a fact so known it was written on his tombstone. His wife knew every night as he was loving her. Once, he loved her so hard she hurt and asked him to love a little less.

Stephanie stopped his loving heart forever.

From Guest Contributor Emily Aledort

She stared out the window every day, waiting for her husband to return from sea. Whether she wanted him to return or not was an open question in her heart and mind, but it was her duty to wait so wait she did.

She was Queen in his absence. The power was nice and she bowed to no man, but sometimes it would have been nice to have someone to blame for the rotten economy besides the Gods.