It’s Probably Mrs Gillespie

‘What is Mr Bridgewater is doing? That’s a mighty big bag he’s putting in his boot. And in all this snow too.’

‘It’s a dead body, mum,’ Bailey said, not looking up from his magazine. ‘I told you months ago he’s been killing off the wrinklies in the neighbourhood. But you never listen. He can see you, you know. The light.’

‘Oh.’ She flicked the lamp beside her off.

‘It’s probably Mrs Gillespie, haven’t seen her for a while.’

‘Oh dear, I hope not. The annual neighbourhood watch meeting is next month and she makes the most amazing plum pudding.’    

FF - 14:02:18 - Snow
PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

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This piece was written for the Friday Fictioneers hosted by the lovely Rochelle Wisoff-Fields – Addicted to Purple.

Each week a photo prompt is given and the challenge is write a flash fiction piece of no more than one hundred words.

Find other Friday Fictioneer stories here.

Murder in the Yard

The noise had been niggling at Nora for a while, sifting into her dreams at the edge of consciousness.

She squirmed in bed. The sound took shape, a whirr of an engine. A saw. A chainsaw. It was coming from the back yard.

She jumped up and ran outside.

Her tree lay in pieces all over the ground. Her dad stood over it, the murder weapon on his hip.

‘Dad? Why?’

‘It were dead, luv.’

She rummaged through the severed limbs until she found it. ‘N&J’ scratched into the bark. The top of the heart was missing. Tears fell.

FF - 31.01.18 - stumps
PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

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This piece was written for the Friday Fictioneers hosted by the lovely Rochelle Wisoff-Fields – Addicted to Purple.

Each week a photo prompt is given and the challenge is write a flash fiction piece of no more than one hundred words.

Find other Friday Fictioneer stories here.