MicroHorror

Judith carefully unwrapped the package her daughter had sent. It was a copy of a current bestselling book, along with a handwritten note. It read:

“Mother,
I love you very much and think it is time for you to have this book.
Love always, Rebecca.”

Judith sighed. Had it come to this? The world had certainly changed, and not for the better. Judith could remember a time when people took vacations; actually traveled to beautiful destinations around the world. Now the retired and the elderly were left only with insidiously cheerful books like the one her daughter had just given her.

Resignedly, Judith settled into her favorite chair and slowly turned the pages. Despite herself, she marveled at the gorgeous color photographs of manmade wonders like the Eiffel Tower, the Leaning Tower of Pisa and Mount Rushmore. The more natural beauty on display in the pictures of Niagara Falls, the Sahara Desert and Mount Everest took her breath away.

Judith took her time, soaking in each page. It was her own personal tour of the wonders of the world. Her spirits sank as she neared the last page. At last she steeled her nerves and turned to the back of the book. The pill was there, just as she knew it would be. Judith used a fingernail to break the foil and peel it back. She chewed the gritty white tablet and thumbed through the book again, looking for her favorite scene.

Judith felt her heart racing as she settled on a lovely panorama of a lush green jungle somewhere in South America. Where was this? Brazil? Ecuador? Judith tried to read the inscription but her vision blurred. She imagined herself in the scene. Paradise. Judith’s muscles contracted and her body shook. Her eyes rolled back and she slumped sideways in her chair. Judith’s heart ceased its ragged bucking. Her body relaxed itself, lungs exhaling in a long peculiar rattle, her favorite recliner ruined by the voiding of her bowels.

Her wrinkled hands relaxed their grip on the latest bestseller. Three Hundred Beautiful Places to See Before You Die fell softly to the dusty carpet.