By Thomas Kleaton
Susan drove up as he stepped out of the shower, back from her monthly facial at the beauty parlor.
Thunder banged off the house.
Her beauty would eventually fade; as a chemist he knew they would die, their bodies decomposing into elements of nitrogen, hydrogen, and oxygen, all originating in the scorching fire of stars.
He found her behind her SUV, her blond hair smoking, her neck exfoliated in bizarre patterns of Lichtenberg scarring. And her mouth, her perfect lips and teal bands of her braces burned the color of yet another element.
Carbon, he thought, and began to scream.
For more from Thomas Kleaton, visit his blog by clicking here.