AnElephantCant always be specific
But he finds being vague sometimes works
So when someone is dead
On the floor or in bed
It is very likely sweet Anja is the corpse
Once again it is Friday Fictioneer time.
Presented weekly by rampant Rochelle, please follow this link for some rollicking rumbustious recitals from readily raffish reporters.
But first pause to read some relative rubbish from AnElephant.
The idea is to write a very short story, circa 100 words, based on this picture prompt (below).
There is a body in the corner.
A girl, with what looks like a broken neck.
Forbes’ trademark style.
I can’t help her, so I ignore her.
I hear Forbes’ voice through the door to the living area.
Sounds like he is organising the clean up of this latest tantrum.
I push the door open, softly, slowly.
The phone goes down.
Then hear the clink of glass.
He is preparing a drink.
No surprise there.
Johnny Walker on ice, I know.
I push the door open.
He turns, surprised.
I shoot him, twice.
That is my job.