February 23, 2004

Shrilling Red

With tingles, she heard the gravel crunching underfoot and nothing else. Time to ride away now, tuck in the heavy black accessory. His face was smeared with red. Good. She smiled, pulling out her lipstick and put on another smooth coat: lighter than the crimson that marred his temple.

Posted by Amanda Cochran at February 23, 2004 2:03 AM
Comments

oooooo, a flash fic! I like it, but the murder is almost a second guess when you read it--I see the "crimson that marred his temple" as a kiss leaving the print of her lips before I see the bullet wound pouring blood. Is that what you were going for?

Posted by: Karissa at February 23, 2004 10:10 PM

Yeppers! :-D

Posted by: Amanda at February 24, 2004 12:01 AM

I can just hear the gravel it is outside the white picket fence.

Posted by: grammy at February 24, 2004 7:09 PM
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