It seemed like the perfect Valentine’s day. Her boyfriend had paid for a night in a luxury hotel in a picturesque village and also a chauffeur to drive them to a local beauty spot.
He had woken her early and they had sat on their balcony and watched the sun rise and shared a bar of chocolate, not quite all of which melted in their mouths.
After breakfast, the driver had arrived with a huge grin on his face. There was something about him Mona did not like, something they preyed on her mind. He seemed quite jolly as he drove them to a remote and secluded place where a long stretch of sand met the sea. He even sang to them. Mona hoped that this was part of the service because she didn’t think it was worth paying extra for. She could only take so much more of ‘Spanish eyes’ sung just off key.
Some days expand, Mona thought; their seams stretch and they hold more than a day’s worth of time.
Then things started to go wrong. After taking just one sip of champagne, her boyfriend began to choke and passed out.
As she tried to resuscitate him, she looked over at the chauffeur who was still grinning.
“How can you be so cheery at time like this?” she shouted.
“Oh, I just love my job and my hobby” he replied.
“And what’s your hobby then?” Mona asked, with some trepidation.
“Butcher” he replied as the axe swung.
This story was written for the 50 Word Thursday Challenge, hosted by Deb Whittam.
You have until Wednesday if you want to take part, click on the link.