Killed by the Furniture – Written by Christopher Marshall

Hush darling,
I’ve been waiting.
I’m ready.

Try to breath steady but shallow it will upset you less; the poison makes it hard to breath, there’s no point fighting it.

Oh don’t look at me like that! Surely you saw this coming. It was in the bottle your “associate” plastered his clumsy fingerprints on, just after I showed him in.

Curiosity killed the cat, or at least the cat’s boss. The bottle is now in his pocket for the police to find but I put its content into the whiskey I gave you when you were talking to him about your drug deal, or the murder of that poor boy up in the estate.

I can see fear in your eyes. I had hoped you’d sleep through it but you had to wake up didn’t you? I didn’t want to scare you my love.

What was that? I didn’t quite hear you; I’ll move closer, whisper to me… Why?

I thought that would be obvious. When you married me you promised me the world but I’m just another piece of furniture. Expected to smile at your brutal stories and then to be in your bed when you tired of your friends shallow compliments. Did you know Napoleon was killed by his wallpaper? And now your killed by…

Oh my love, don’t try to sit up! It will all be over soon, I promise. Besides, I need to get in character to call 999. I’ll be playing the part of the distraught wife, I’m sure I can manage it.

You feel clammy, are you sure you’re well? I’m sorry, a joke at a time like this probably isn’t appropriate.

When you married me you promised me the world. But I didn’t realise that in your mind that the world was you… nothing else.

Ahh. Its over. Let me kiss you my love, then I’ll call for an ambulance.

Words: 319