Frozen puddles

Bland cream pastel walls, sterile, with no semblance of human interaction. It looked a lot like a room suited for an interrogation, a mafia led interrogation. A room designed to convey the subtle message of fatality either ways you answered.

“Right, what else do we have here other than the victim?”

“Excluding the mug and table, nothing else.”

“Any finger prints or DNA tissue obtained?”

“No finger prints. Aimee is working on the victim as we speak, but nothing’s turned up.”

“Any ideas on the mug content?”

“Other than remind me of luka’s diaper contents last night, we’re stumped on that as well.”

They both smiled.

“Whatever happened here, that mug seems to be the only evidence of a storm that occurred.”

“Premeditated or random?”

“Definitely premeditated.”

His phone rang.

“Inspector Morris here….. right…. any clue as to the cause of death?”.

“Turns out the victim is an amateur sculpture at some Michigan college …”

“Won’t be far-fetched to assume that’s mud?” pointing to the mug.

“No speculations Jake. What  brought him way out here?”


In response to the writing challenge flash fiction for aspiring writers hosted by Priceless Joy click on the link to visit the blog. The photograph is from the lovely artycaptures (interesting photo can’t wait to see all the stories it inspires) and the challenge is to write a 100 – 150 words (+/- 25 words) story inspired by it. Do click on the link for other stories.

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Indisputable

There are approximately a hundred and thirty-five squares on that side of the wall. I know what your thinking, boredom does strange things to the human mind. Do I have any options?

And the colour? It doesn’t do much for the imagination does it? On second thought; it reminds me of school lunches and detention hallways. Places designed to forewarn you of life in prison; lukewarm meals and dinge spaces.

His voice jars me from my reverie, it’s gone all pitchy. 

He sounds desperately  innocent.

“I understand Mr Finch …..” I say

Do I believe him? Sure, the walls pink ain’t it?

 


Written for Friday fictioneers a writing challenge hosted by Rochelle. The picture was provided by the lovely J hardy Carroll, the task is to write a 100 words story inspired by it. Thanks Rochelle for hosting the challenge. Thank you for stopping by… do click on the link to read other stories.

 

Subjective review

The house looked nothing like what I had expected and I said as much to Joey.

“Are you sure this is the right place?”

“Yeap, it’s the right address.”

“It doesn’t look anything like I expected, it almost looks … picturesque, reminds me of Ellie’s nursery.” 

“Well that’s the perfect diversion, isn’t it? Throws you off the track.”

“It certainly does.”

“We have to go now, before we rouse suspicion. People don’t sit outside in their cars around here for long if they want to stay alive.”

Taking a deep breath, she tugged at the door handle.

It was a bed and breakfast, had lots of positive reviews online. A home away from home. I am sure Mr X would have given them a five star review if they had let him live, perhaps he heard a little more than the meal time chat.

Joey rang the bell.

Few minutes later and the door opened.

There she stood with a persona as welcoming as an angel holding heavens gate, they took diversion to another level

Copyright Phylor

In response to the writing challenge flash fiction for aspiring writers hosted by Priceless Joy click on the link to visit the blog. The photograph is from Phylor (interesting photo can’t wait to see all the stories it inspires) and the challenge is to write a 100 – 150 words (+/- 25 words) story inspired by it. Do click on the link for other stories.