This is a very short piece I wrote for my English homework. ----- A Good Woman Is Hard To Find He sat on the bed, staring at the pool of blood on the floor as it began to congeal. He'd been doing that for a while now. Part of him was still outraged at what he had done, yet another, larger part applauded him. The knife finally slid out of his unmoving hand, clattering to the floor. She deserved it. Didn't she? She just wasn't as good. She didn't live up to his expectations... Of course it was her fault. She should've been better. Nicer. Prettier. As wonderful as his first wife. She'd had a beautiful funeral. She lay peacefully in the coffin, dressed in what was almost a black version of her lace wedding dress. The ring was still on her hand, so was his. But only for appearance's sake. Finishing his speech, his voice had a slight tremor. But it was to be expected. "...She was.... She was a good woman. I... I d-doubt I'll find anyone quite like her..." He stepped down and went back to his seat, casually slipping the wedding band from his finger. He was right. But he tried anyway. He met his new wife only a month after the funeral, proposing by the end of the year. Everyone was so happy that he'd found love again. Except for him. She was similar, but at the same time not even remotely alike. Every tiny difference was highlighted by tenfold in his eyes. It irked him. Why wasn't she the same? Better, even? It didn't seem fair. He decided that was to change. One night, once she was in bed, he crept downstairs, returning to their bedroom with scissors and a knife. He always thought she'd look prettier with short hair. Carefully he snipped away, unevenly detaching the locks from her scalp. Ever so gently, he slipped her top off. She stirred. He paused. That extra stomach fat just had to go. She woke as the knife touched her skin. Too late. She screamed as he held her down, digging the blade into her into her abdomen. "Please be quiet dear," He muttered, slitting her throat. The screaming stopped, her heart soon following. He sighed, all too used to this by now "Not again... Never again." Their funeral was even more beautiful.
You know I can't do more I don't have the time nor the motivation. But yeah I'll probably be back in 8 months with another one-shot or poem or whatever.