Monday, June 30, 2014

New Shoes pt2

 This is the 321 word version

    “Well Detective we can tell you more once we get her down to the morgue but it looks like she was beaten by the classic blunt object and dumped here. Time of death would have been early last night from the liver temp”, Tommy the medical examiner's assistant gave his report to Detective Rob Mosley.

     “Her shoes were on top of the bag, what's up with that Rob?”, his young partner James Hoyle asked. Hoyle would ask such questions fully expecting Rob to have the answer. Rob couldn’t tell if the boy was stupid or suffering from a case of hero worship, either way it irritated him.

       “No idea Jimmy, could be she wasn't wearing them when she was killed.”

      “Well she is fully dressed and no signs of rape, must have been the husband.” Hoyle went for the husband every time, usually that is a good bet.

       “That her purse?” Rob nodded toward a purse on the ground next to the body.

       “It was in the bag with her when I took her out” Tommy replied, “guess it is but you're the detective.” 

        It had been hers, no husband, no steady boyfriend so they were off to talk to the co-workers.
They arrived at the office where she had worked. A small room on a floor of a building filled with similar rooms. A middle aged woman sat at a cheap desk ginning at them. A broken and bloody lamp was on the desk and blood stained the floor. The woman seemed to take no notice. The office manger told the detectives the woman's name was Linda Smith, a plain name. The woman was anything but plain, she was the most beautiful woman Rob had ever seen. 

        “Miss Smith? I would like to ask you about Miss Betty Wright.”

         “Betty is dead, she had big feet.”

         “Excuse me?”

        “Yes, she had big feet, her shoes didn't fit me at all.”

New Shoes

      The shoes didn't fit. The whole point had been to get the shoes and they just didn't fit. Such a waste of time and effort. 

     Betty had always lorded it over Linda, her higher pay, her better clothes, her dates, her extra title at work, just everything. Linda hated Betty and felt justified in doing so. 

      In little ways Linda got some revenge, when Betty would brag about the rich man she had slept with the night before Linda would take her pen when she was away form her desk. It would give Linda satisfaction but Betty never noticed. Linda would think about it for days and smile, imagining Betty looking for the lost pen. Betty though would just pull another pen out of her drawer and not even give it a thought, pens were nothing to her.

       One morning Betty was late to work, Linda had been there ten minutes early as normal, waiting. Betty had a key, Linda didn't. Linda stood by the door waiting, imagining that Betty had taken home a murderer from a night club and was now hanging over a bathtub like a side of beef, her life blood slow dripping down the drain. The thought made her smile and brightened her day.

      Her smile remained fixed but her eyes had no trace of joy when Betty arrived. The office was small, two desks, Betty had her name on the door Linda had her name on the smaller desk. Both desks were cheap but Betty's was wood. Once at work the door remained open so Betty could see the people from other offices walk by, Linda closed it when Betty was out. Linda didn't want to see the others, she hated them all.

     Betty had new shoes, they were very expensive so she made it a point to show them off to Linda. “Italian”, “perfect fit”, “feel so nice”, “cost as much as you make in a week”, all the hurtful things that just rolled off her hateful tongue. Linda imagined the gross things that tongue must have touched to get those shoes and smiled. Betty took that smile as friendly interest, Betty had never understood Linda and treated her like she would have treated anyone else.

      Because Betty had been late to work and had spent so much time showing off her shoes she hadn't finished her work and had asked Linda to stay over with her. Linda agreed, she always agreed. Another pen vanished from Betty's desk.

      The rest of the floor was empty, only Linda and Betty remained. Betty was holding up a leg moving her foot back and forth once again admiring her new shoes. Linda hit her in the back of the head with her desk lamp. Years of rage were in the blow. Her imagined injustices gave her the strength to hit over and over. Betty never noticed, the first blow had seen to that but Linda had a lot of pent up fury to work out. As the blows faded Linda felt exhausted but more at ease than she had in years. She sat back and enjoyed the feeling letting a warm glow wash over her, she so rarely experienced such joy.

      With Betty shoved in a mail bag Linda tried on the shoes. They didn't fit. Linda pouted and gave the bag a kick.

Sunday, June 29, 2014

five sentence fiction dazzles

She cut down her wedding gown to wear for the dance. It was the dress she had worn the day he died. She felt it was a fitting tribute to her late husband. A dazzling dance in virginal white at his funeral rather than an eulogy. He would have hated it.

Saturday, June 28, 2014

I have got to get away. The noise, the people the pressure of life here, I can't take it any more.
I just want to get in a boat and leave. Sail off into the sunset. Yeah, that's it, into the sunset. Find a big city with running water and leave this damn tropical island.

Wednesday, June 25, 2014

Marigje and Max

     1317 had been a year of famine but not for Marigje and Max, no it had been a feast year for them.
     Marigje was old, she didn't even know how old but she was old enough to have taken up cackling. Her only friend was Max, a rather distasteful cat that never purred and only killed for sport. They really were well suited to each other.
     They lived deep in the woods, so deep that wolves couldn't find their way out if they found themselves in her yard. But any wolf that was so careless as to find itself there deserved to be removed from the gene pool.
      A welcome sight greeted the duo that sunny morning. Walking down the path two children, a boy and a girl, hand in hand. Yet another pair of siblings abandoned by their parents.
     Yes, Marigje and Max were having dinner delivered tonight.

Tuesday, June 24, 2014

Bo shuffled along, his legs barely able to carry the very little left of a once proud horse. He hadn't eaten in days, food no longer interested him. When he was a young horse rocks had been placed to slow his eating, now grated carrots to try to spur him into taking a bite.
Liz had called him “little red goat” years back when he ate poison ivy out of the trees. He would want to come give you a horse kiss afterward. You didn't want that.
Bo, then good old Bo and at last poor old Bo. He aged hard at the end but only a few weeks before he had run like a colt with the youngest mare, he even bucked. But that would leave him sore the next day, still it was good to see.
The last few days he didn't come with the other horses for meals. I had to go find him, each time expecting the worst. The other horses would go to him after he was found and walk him to the barn. Yesterday Lucy, an old maid of a mare, gently pushed him along, letting him rest but keeping him going in the right direction. He didn't even eat the grated carrot. His face felt cool as did his ears, a horse should be warm not cold.
This morning he didn't show up so once again I went searching for what I expected to be a dead horse. I found him at last in the old graveyard in the woods. From the condition of the leaves and ground he had been walking in circles around a small tree, dragging his back feet in his unsteady shuffle. He was hanging on, forcing me to make the calls I didn't want to make.
I reached the excavator and arranged for him to come this afternoon to act as undertaker. The vet is very close by and she stopped by between other farm calls. It wouldn't take her very long to do her job. She sent me to keep the other horses back saying she could hold him and give the shot. She warned us that we would hear him fall. I turned back too soon and saw him fall, he was dead before he hit the ground.
Bo was my horse, my wife and I have horses but Bo was mine. She bought him for me when we were first married and we spent many happy hours in those days riding. She on her big bay mare Apple Pooh and me on little red Bo. We have all grown older, pooh has been dead for a few years and now so is Bo. 

Monday, June 23, 2014

“Hey Bob, we're down here with the body.”
The county Coroner, Bob Winston, eased his bulk down the steep hill while the deputies grinned at his unsteady progress. He slid and almost fell before the chain link fence saved him from that indignity.
Holding on to the fence he asked the deputy,”Where is it?”
“Inside the wolf enclosure but between the fall and the wolves there isn't much left”, the deputy replied with a lupine grin.

Friday, June 20, 2014

A woman and child walked along a narrow path. The sun was in their eyes so they only saw the man when they were almost upon him. A normal looking man, nothing remarkable.
“Why is he in chains?”, asked the child.
“He spoke the truth and was heard. Don't look at him”, said the woman.

I am having trouble responding to comments here and other blogs, I am doing something wrong or Firefox won't let me.
Cover reveal on Wombat's blog,
I am almost published.

Sunday, June 15, 2014

Too Far

After the fight he rode off on his bicycle in the dark. He pedaled on brooding all night, reliving every hurtful word as he went.
The sun rose before him its beauty melting away his resentment. He saw a phone booth ahead and coasted to a stop.
“Lilly? I'm sorry. Can you come get me?”

Friday, June 13, 2014
I wish I had thought about the consequences before I chose this course. I may have been too rash, I may have been too hasty.  It doesn't really matter now there are some things you just can't take back. What is the old saying, you can't un-ring a bell? Most of all right now; I wish I hadn't jumped off that chair lift.

Tuesday, June 3, 2014

 A second story for

 This chair lift ride had been a whimsical last minute addition to the ceremony,  I knew it was a sign.
She had accepted my proposal, it was because of her upraising, she wanted to please. I knew I would be nothing but a burden, a millstone hung around her neck. In time she would grow to hate me and I couldn't live like that so I may as well speed things up. When we reached the highest point I slipped under the safety bar, it was the greatest gift I could give her; she is free.