MicroHorror

It was dark, and he sat in front of the computer screen, barely awake.

The lights were out. Somewhere on the street outside, headlights swept past his living room window.

He’d been sitting like this in his office since four thirty, the beginning of twilight.

It was now past six, and he had not bothered to get up and put on the lights.

Having worked on an advertising proposal for the better part of the day, he was exhausted. Stretching, thinking about the leftover pot roast still in the fridge from the night before, he stood and yawned.

A pop-up came on screen:

Sarah13705 has sent you a message.

That’s strange, he thought. Sarah should have left work by now and was most likely making the slog through traffic back to her apartment. It was rare that she ever sent him an instant message, anyway. Usually she just called or sent a text.

He clicked on the box and opened the message.

Are you home? it read.

He sat down and typed in his answer: Sure. Are you coming over tonight or what?

It took a moment for the reply.

Actually, I am sending a delivery over to you. Make sure you get it. I purchased some naughty things for you.

His mind began to race with possibilities: lingerie, toys? One never knew. Sarah always appeared to be this buttoned-down rich little Daddy’s girl, but she was full of surprises.

No hints? he typed back.

No. You have to wait and see.

Ahhhhhhhhh!!! Come on, you’re killing me here.

You’ll just have to wait, baby.

The doorbell rang, and he signed for the package. It was fairly heavy, all wrapped up in a glossy red box. As the delivery man pulled away, he turned on the lights and closed the door behind him.

It took a few minutes for him to unravel the paper. Finally, he had a little black box in his hand, not much bigger than the size of a hat. He opened it, and there was a letter inside.

The front said “I love you,” in Sarah’s slanted handwriting. There was an arrow and the words beside it: turn over.

The back read “Too bad you don’t love me, too.”

There was a bunch of tissue in the box. He suddenly felt dread. He reached under the paper carefully and felt cloth.

In his hand he lifted a little lace bra. The smell of perfume still clung to the fabric.

His face turned red. This was not Sarah’s.

There seemed to be something else in the box, something much heavier. He reached in and felt the edge of something metallic.

Now he understood. How Sarah had been overly sweet, making him pot roast and calling him every few hours, smiling, but her eyes boring holes into his back every time he wasn’t looking. This routine had been going on for the better part of a month.

Just how long had she known he was cheating?

He heard a tick… one… two… three.

He tried to toss the box, but it bounced off the wall and landed at his feet.

The explosion rocked the whole street.

• Copyright: © 2008 Lori Titus