Short Stories to Contemplate #5: Mr. & Mrs. Ward


Mr. Ward savored the taste of flesh, closed his eyes and let it soak into his tongue. “This is perfect. Succulent and seasoned,” he remarked.
Mrs. Ward across the table nodded in appreciation and smiled. “Thank you, Richard.”
“My parents always told me not to name the thing you are going to slaughter but they were wrong,” he bit the corner of his lip and adjusted his glasses with his forefinger. “They were totally wrong. Tommy really tastes amazing. It’s as if I can feel the affection and love we showered him with.” He paused, nodding. “This is the way to do it.”
Mrs. Ward nodded. “I agree. It is as if the more love we give the better they taste.”
He grabbed the glass of red wine and took a sip. “To be honest, I was a bit worried about doing it at three.”
“Me too. But you’ll never know until you try, right?”
He smiled. “True.”
She smiled warmly as tears welled up in her. “Richard?”
Richard looked up at his beautiful wife and smiled back. “Oh, you aren’t sad are you? This would too late for guilt.”
She shook her head. “It’s not that.” She sniffled. “I’m growing old and I doubt I will be able to give you any more children.” She gazed at the middle of the table. “I mean this might be the last one.”
Richard put his knife down. “Poor wife,” he sighed. “There are always other ways. This isn’t the end.”
She laughed, relieved. ”I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Richard glanced at the cooked body of his last child. He picked up his knife, cut off the child’s cheek, stabbed piece of flesh with his fork and lifted it to his mouth. “Hmm, this is really good. You out did yourself, honey.”
“Thank you.”
“It’s a good thing we made sure no one knew he existed.”
“It is.” She cut into the child’s calf and laughed. “Playing the distraught-missing-child’s-parents on the media is not easy to pull off. It gets tiring.”
Richard laughed.
Silence fell of over for few moments, nothing but the sound of cutlery dominated.
His wife swallowed and took a swig off her wine glass. “Do you think we are bad people? Morally?”
Richard shook his head, a thoughtful frown on his face. “All parents do it. We all kill our kids and eat them one way or another. We are more merciful and quick about it this way. If they don’t do it with abuse and neglect, the state or society does it for them.”
Mrs. Ward nodded. “I Agree.”


The last thing I want to do is to disturb you. I’m sorry if I did.  I can’t tell you what inspired me but I can tell you I heard a lot of “We Are From America” by Marilyn Manson in my head while I planned the story. A lot of the themes in that song are in here.

Thanks for reading

“We’re from America, we’re from America, where we eat our young.” – Marilyn Manson ‘We Are From America’


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