She’d had enough.
His end was near, didn’t know it though. He was clueless.
Her knuckles tightened around the elegantly shaped wine glass. Instinct and rage fueled the glass crashing into the side of the table. Only one crescent-shaped shard fell away.
It was the perfect edge to damage a pulsing artery.
She gracefully, furiously, lunged for the side of his throat. His vital organ cut wide-open. A rhythmic stream began pumping out, gushing blood down and out over his body. With stunned horror, he gripped his throat to stop the bleeding.
She watched, fascinated, as he was dying.
Originally published on IWH May 20, 2018