Exit Strategies

“Is that blood?”

She shook her head, wiping her hands on her red-splattered shirt. “Paint. I’m testing colours. Wanna see?”

“Sure.” Her heels echoed across the floorboards. “I love this house… oh my – that’s atrocious.” She pointed to where paint tins and tarps lay beneath the wall.

“My husband hated it too.”

“Your husband has great taste.”

“Yesss,” she hissed at the woman in heels.

“No, you’ll have to re-do this entire wall. It’s hideous.”

“I can, now you’re here.”

“Why?”

“You’re part of my exit strategy.” And hit the other woman with a full paint tin who crumbled to the floor and was bound up, tight.

She pulled back the bricks revealing a body wrapped in plastic. “Honey, here’s your girlfriend you ran away with, leaving me to re-decorate just the way I want.”

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