Where There’s A Will


No one will ever know.
She was afraid the parchment paper would jam, but each sheet ran through the
shredder seamlessly. Little pieces of hostility scattered to the floor, a mosaic of tiny 
squares and streamers, which she swiftly swept into a pile, scooped up,  
and deposited in the urn with her dead husband’s ashes. 
Everything is rightfully mine.
He wanted it that way.
At least he did until he suspected her of wanting to kill him and changed his will, the 
remains of which were now as gray as he was.


Susan Israel is the author of two crime novels, Over My Live Body and Student Bodies (The Story Plant). She lives in Connecticut.

Previous
Previous

The Last American Vampire

Next
Next

Invisible