by C.L. Sidell
I recite the phrase while plucking the dandelion’s petals, one by one.
“What are you doing?” Chandra asks, reaching for a wine glass. It’s a lovely day for picnicking—birds tweeting in a slight breeze.
“Consulting,” I reply as the last petal detaches on ‘not’.
“But…Travis, you know I love you.”
Wordlessly, I wrap my hands around her throat. She bucks and claws, but her strength is no match against mine.
Only when her body stills and her eyes glaze over do I let go.
“I really do hope the next one loves me,” I say with a sigh.
A native Floridian, C.L. Sidell grew up playing with toads in the rain and indulging in speculative fiction. Her work has appeared in The Dread Machine, Factor Four Magazine, F&SF, Martian Magazine, Medusa Tales Magazine, and others.