Ebony Black (1990-2010) was killed on August sixth. Known for her sweet nature and easy toleration of her seven uncles, she will be dearly missed. A memorial service will be held on Wednesday; all are welcome except for her stepmother. A buffet will follow. Join us for the potluck, but don’t bring apples.
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I heard a knock on the door of my uncle’s house. They warned me not to talk to strangers, but I looked through the peephole and saw an elderly woman. Her white hair looked vaguely wig-ish, but that could easily be attributed to many years of hair dye use and chlorinated pools. Other than that, she looked perfectly normal. …Then again, there were two other, perfectly normal looking elderly women who tried to kill me last week…
“I have lovely apples to sell,” she called through the door. Her voice was that of someone much younger than the eighty-something year old I saw, but I took another look. She had lifted up a basket of the prettiest apples I’ve ever seen, and my mouth started watering. Quickly, I swallowed, and opened the door.
“I- I don’t know that I should…” I said,
“What’s the matter? You don’t think they’re poisoned, do you?” Was it just me, or did her eyes glint a little bit at the word “poison”?
“Oh, of course not, it’s just, my uncles warned me not to- to…” I began, but the woman had cut one in half and started eating. It looked so good, the juice glistening in the afternoon sun… It was the perfect shade of rosy pink, too. Well, half of it was, but it looked gorgeous.
“Want the other half?” she asked, “This one’s free of charge.”
“Well… If you insist!” I took the part she offered me, it had that gorgeous rosy shade… Hers didn’t have any of that color, but that’s ok, maybe she just doesn’t care for pink.
I took a bite, and everything went black.
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