Monday, December 12, 2005

v4n3: The Doctor's Wife

The last crimson leaf fell from the stick-of-a-plant, then Doris took the whistling pot off the stove and poured herself a cup of steaming oolong. A feeling of peaceful resignation overtook her.

Cradling the now-barren specimen in the crook of her arm, she climbed the stairs to the bedroom, where Edward lay sleeping. She tiptoed to the bed and kissed him gently on the cheek, then, raising the clay pot high above her head, bashed his brains out with it.

"For twelve YEARS I sold welding supplies door-to-door so YOU could go to MEDICAL school ... and ALL I GET is a FUCKING HOUSEPLANT!?" she screamed. "Physician, HEAL thyself!"

— Ender

No comments: