The ravioli

He saw her sitting there, in her usual chair. "

Darling, shall I put grated cheese on the ravioli?".

-Darling, shall I put grated cheese on the ravioli?No answer.

She turned around quizzically and the chair was empty.

She looked at the picture on the cabinet and reality hit her hard.

She turned off the cooker and sat down, defeated. Suddenly, a rustling in the living room paralysed her.

Slow footsteps approached. It couldn't be... The door creaked open with a chilling creak.

There he stood, decrepit, with sunken eyes and rotting flesh hanging.

-The ravioli... will get cold,’ he croaked in a sepulchral voice as he rushed towards her amidst heart-rending screams.