u/GSV_Lasting_Damage

Last night, I wrote down this idea for a short story. I love stories that are mundane and then a sudden horrific change occurs. What do others think of this?

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A man lives alone and lonely in a house he owns. Despite his sadness, he lives a clean and well-ordered life. One day, the doorbell rings. At the door is a woman with a long and homely face, almost like a plastic mask. Despite this, the man welcomes her inside, and they soon marry. He knows little of where she came from or anything about her past, but she is the perfect wife. She is happy, supportive, and loving at every occasion of their lives together from raising their children to speaking lovingly to the man throughout the years to dutifully taking care of him as he gets sick in his old age, becomes bedridden, and dies. After she buries him and does all the things a grieving widow does to the external world, she goes into the cemetery late one night, digs up his corpse, and eats the body. This is what she had been truly waiting for her entire life ever since she approached the house and knocked on the door that first time. This is all she has ever wanted, the great desire of her life; nothing else mattered. She was always biding her time until this moment. If you could go back behind her smiling eyes and gentle laughter and supportive hands during all those years and occasions of their lives together, you would not find the thoughts of a loving wife and mother but rather only one sentence repeating endlessly in her head, rolling around and around like a marble in a bowl, at the forefront of every thought and before all else: “I CANNOT WAIT TO EAT HIS CORPSE.”

Last night, I wrote down this idea for a short story. I love stories that are mundane and then a sudden horrific change occurs. What do others think of this? Originally I posted this to "Horror," but they directed me here.

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A man lives alone and lonely in a house he owns. Despite his sadness, he lives a clean and well-ordered life. One day, the doorbell rings. At the door is a woman with a long and homely face, almost like a plastic mask. Despite this, the man welcomes her inside, and they soon marry. He knows little of where she came from or anything about her past, but she is the perfect wife. She is happy, supportive, and loving at every occasion of their lives together from raising their children to speaking lovingly to the man throughout the years to dutifully taking care of him as he gets sick in his old age, becomes bedridden, and dies. After she buries him and does all the things a grieving widow does to the external world, she goes into the cemetery late one night, digs up his corpse, and eats the body. This is what she had been truly waiting for her entire life ever since she approached the house and knocked on the door that first time. This is all she has ever wanted, the great desire of her life; nothing else mattered. She was always biding her time until this moment. If you could go back behind her smiling eyes and gentle laughter and supportive hands during all those years and occasions of their lives together, you would not find the thoughts of a loving wife and mother but rather only one sentence repeating endlessly in her head, rolling around and around like a marble in a bowl, at the forefront of every thought and before all else: “I CANNOT WAIT TO EAT HIS CORPSE.”