Toe Tag
by Catherine Bader
Something tangles in her feet under the table.
A toe tag – her name written there in caps…
Her coroner husband was playing another joke.
She’s not laughing. She picks up the phone to call him.
In a disorienting flash, she appears in his office.
The hell?
He turns from his desk and looks at her with a salacious grin on his face. He points behind her.
She sees herself laying in an unzipped body bag;
autopsy stitches cover her torso.
She’s dead and no one can feel her terror….
or hear her screaming as she snaps back to oblivion.
