By Scott L Vannatter – 100 Words
Marie opened her eyes and they widened, screaming where her taped mouth could not.
She was bound to a pole behind the wine bottles in their basement. Her husband was hastily
putting up a brick wall in front of the wine rack, sealing her inside with the bottles.
She struggled, then, looking down, giggled a little crazily. Irony was, after all, something to laugh at.
There, on the floor, was the last present she had bought him: a leather-bound copy, opened and flipped to show the illustrations of two stories. They were “The Black Cat” and “The Cask of Amontillado.”