Wifey dearest- 300 word flash fiction based on the picture below. FB-FWG- Psychological Thriller. Trigger warnings: Mental Illness and Domestic Abuse.

“I have no idea what to say about this little bottle and what’s on the inside.” I hung my head and stared at my own glass jar. I felt my doctors’ eyes upon me.

“Jeffrey, why’d you bring it then?” He asked.

I felt violated by these court ordered psychiatrist visits. Yeah, I killed the neighbor’s creepy cat. He would slyly walk across the railing of my balcony and place his grubby little paws on my windowsill, peer in at me like I owed him something.

“That cat wasn’t a threat to you!” Here we go again, she couldn’t leave me alone, even in death.

“I wish you’d just shut up!” I snapped.

“Are you talking to me?” The doctor asked, his tone rather rough.

I shook my miniature urn at him. “My deceased wife!” I pointed. “I’m talking to her! She never shuts up! It’s nag, nag, nag, all the dern time!”

“You carry her around with you?” He leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs, his brown leather shoe moved slowly back and forth in my direction as he nervously rocked, yet I’m the one they call crazy!

“Pieces, she wouldn’t have it any other way.” I gave him a wink; he sat back up, leaned in, and got a closer look.

“What are the gold flakes?” He was quite the observer.

I speedily bounced to my feet, slammed my wife in his face, stopping right before she was embedded in his eye. “See…..do you see that? That, Mr. Doctor is my wedding band ground up in tiny bits sitting right in there with what I kept of her. She always said I made her more colorful, though it was usually black and blue.” I smirked.

He asked if I would excuse him for a moment. I found that very rude.