The Last Reel
by Lynda E. Rucker
Working in a kitchen had left her inured to minor cuts and burns. ‘Let’s see what’s in the box.’
Let’s not, he wanted to say, but what came out when he followed her back to the bed was, ‘Three movies featuring a head-in-a-box. Name them.’
‘God,’ she said, ‘do you have to be so morbid? _Seven_.’ She lifted the lid.
‘That’s one,’ he said, so he wouldn’t shout something stupid and hysterical like _Don’t look inside_!
‘It’s filled with photographs,’ she said. ‘_Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia_.’
‘That’s head-in-a-bag, not head-in-a-box,’ he said desperately.
‘Oh, for God’s sake. Picky, aren’t we?’ Her voice changed. ‘That’s weird.’
‘I don’t know how she got hold of these. It’s all pictures of me.’
About the Author
Award-winning writer of dark & weird fiction. Black Static columnist. Her second collection “You’ll Know When You Get There” is available from Swan River Press.