I forced my breath to slow down; minutes seemed like hours, so being calm was best. I began to write what I remembered. The officer, who had to drive me here, watched as I detailed the crime.
The sliver of a tear rolled down my cheek recounting the hours at the murder scene. A phone rang, sounding eerily like the wind chime I had heard before the shooting. It sent a shiver down my spine and shone a light on the truth.
Plans started to form in my brain, but was I smart enough to match those of the killer?
This is intriguing. If you are thinking about writing more, I am up for reading. It is my favourite genre.
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I generally don’t on the 100-word stories but glad you liked it, Kritika!
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Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
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I love a good thriller. 👍
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But why did he do it?!?!
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Will she be the next victim???
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I don’t know! lol Maybe? 😉
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😱
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🙂
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A mystery starter! 😍
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Indeed! 🙂 Thanks, Ruth!
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😍
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Well done, Susi!
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Thanks so much, Eugenia! 🙂
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Most welcome, Susi! 😉
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Seamless weaving of the words in your story
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❤ Thank you so much, Sadje!
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Always my pleasure
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