A Heart for Valentine's Day

She always nagged him.

No matter what he did, it was never high enough, low enough, far enough, deep enough, you don't love me enough.

Well, he had something right here to prove her wrong.

It was messy, sure. Stains probably won't come out of the carpet and he was certain that would be something else for her to bitch about.
But when she saw what he had for her...she would finally understand. She could finally get it, get him. She would finally believe him when he told her he loved her more than life itself.

Of course, he'd have to get the hole fixed. He didn't want to die of infection, for God's sakes.

He smiled at the jar in his hands. The blood smears couldn't be helped but still.

She was going to love it.

 



Writing Prompt

So I've decided to take a crack at this writing-prompt thing.

Never done it before.

Don't know how it's gonna turn out.

But I figured why not, if nothing just to keep the creative juices flowing while I put together my next story:

 

Everyone Needs a Hobby

 

        It happened, three doors down.

And it was all because of those damn dolls. How many did she have now? Fifteen? Twenty? Thirty? He saw her the other day, lugging in those suitcases, the small ones with the glass lids that resembled child-sized coffins. Each one held a doll inside.

       Hey, everyone needs a hobby, right? he thought.

Once he'd passed her in the hallway, murmured a "hello" to her then did a double-take when he received no response. Her hair was done up in perfect, golden ringlets and the old velvet gown she wore was edged in lace and swirled around her feet. The look in her eyes was empty as if she were sleepwalking.

      Had he been more observant, he would've noticed the blood soaking the hem of her dress.