by Susan Vita

Rosia navigated the aisle alone. She came from a line of widows, but it was poppycock that the veil was cursed. Her candlelight satin dress suited the heirloom and hid her growing belly.

The groom took her hand, and tears slid down her cheeks when she saw him. He lifted the veil, but cringed away from the crumbling, putrid flesh where his young wife’s pretty face should have been. He fell to the ground, clutching his chest.

As he inhaled his last breath, Rosie’s face went back to normal.

Her sisters embraced her and walked her out of the chapel.

Susan Vita

Susan Vita is a writing tutor who lives near Nashville, TN. She has had a handful of her contemporary and horror pieces published.