by Donna Dickson
Nobody noticed when he slipped the poison into her drink.
“You look lovely this evening,” he whispered, his lips brushing softly against her cheek.
You look hideous. Ten minutes after we were married, you gained 50 pounds and you’ve been stuffing your face ever since.
He gathered her into his arms, swaying gently to the music. Their friends and family were all present to help them celebrate their 25th wedding anniversary.
“I love you, my darling. Thank you for 25 wonderful years”.
I hate you. I can no longer remember a time when I didn’t hate you. I cannot spend another day with you. You’re worth more to me dead than alive. Tonight, I am finally going to get what I deserve.
He giggled gleefully to himself.
“Happy anniversary, my love. I look forward to the next 25 years,” he murmured softly as they danced.
I look forward to the next 25 years without you. Once you taste your wine, I taste my freedom.
The time had come. He tried to cover his anticipation with a mask of loving adoration.
They raised their glasses to their lips.
His heart beat faster.
Sweat beaded on his brow.
He waited for his wife to fall.
As he sank to the ground, he saw his wife gaze at him over the rim of her glass.
He thought he saw her stifle a smile.
Nobody had noticed when she switched their glasses.
He had finally got what he deserved.