The Visit

‘Doctor, can you explain how to commit the perfect murder?’

Clearing his throat, pushing his glasses along his nose, he frowned at the young woman opposite. ‘Why do you insist discussing this every week?’

She glanced around the room of couches and wandering lost souls. ‘Here’s the best place to talk about characters and do my research.’

‘You’re a … writer this month,’ he said, referring to the notebook cradled in his lap. ‘Writing about the perfect murder?’

She shrugged. ‘Sure, why not. You nearly succeeded didn’t you, Doctor?’

‘Excuse me?’ 

‘Your wife–’

‘Young lady…’ Lifting his pen in the air, he halted mid-thought then crossed his legs and leaned back. ‘I’ll allow you to indulge with this illusion. So tell me then, how did I commit this near perfect murder?’

She leaned forward and explained. ‘Start with a hallucinogenic, slipped into your wife’s cup of coffee, then let her drive you to work.’

‘Wouldn’t I be risking my life being contained within the same vehicle?’

‘You were safe at work when you sent her on an errand all the way across town. That’s when the drug took hold, resulting in your wife’s fatal accident and killing two others.’

‘Why would I kill my wife?’

‘For the insurance claim. The type of drug used, normally, would’ve gone undetected. They should have assumed it was her diagnosed phobia of driving on the freeway, driving an unfamiliar larger car, yours, while her smaller car was conveniently at the garage.’ Hands clasped in her lap, she sat back, asking, ‘Where did you get that hallucinogenic and how long does it take to work? Is there some specific weight ratio–’

‘Why would you want to know?’

She looked around as she leaned forwards. ‘I want to commit the perfect murder by learning from your mistakes.’

‘What mistakes,’ he scoffed, shaking his head, frowning.

‘At the coffee shop, the Barista spotted you adding white powder into a takeaway coffee cup, rambling about your wife’s preference to a certain type of artificial sweetener–captured on camera. And you purposely sent your phobic wife onto a busy highway?’

‘I can assure you, young lady, my wife is alive and well. Remember, I’m the Doctor here, and I want to know why you’d want to commit a murder?’

Leaning back in her chair, smoothing out her skirt, she faced him. ‘I don’t love my husband anymore and this way I’ll get a nice insurance payout. I’ll sell everything to go lie on some beach, drinking cocktails out of coconuts in Thailand, living like a pampered queen for the rest of my life.’

‘What about your family, Julie, what would they think?’ He glanced at his notes. ‘There’s your Father to consider?’

‘My dad wouldn’t care.’

‘Why not?’

‘He’s got memory issues and currently serving a life sentence for murdering his wife.’ She stood up, placed her hand on his shoulder and giving a gentle squeeze. ‘I’ll see ya next week, Dad.’

(500 words)

from HOME SWEET ~ NOT.

Home Sweet Not - by Mel A Rowe

#HomeSweetNot #RuralromanticRamblings

A Toasted Benediction

Kate awoke with a gasp, as the pulse surged through veins, and wiped the perspiration beads from her forehead. Tried to swallow the dry lump as she blinked at the red numbers, trapped in that space between asleep and awake.

“Only a nightmare,” she murmured, turning off her alarm clock that never had a chance to blurt its awakening curse while trying to ignore the lower gut-gnawing sensation of panicked fear that shivered along her spine.

With her favourite, Eggs Benedict, Kate smiled serving her ‘fancified’ breakfast. She smoothed down her son’s hair, who frowned, ducked, while not looking away from his game he shoved his plate of eggs aside to reach for the cereal. Her daughter tipped the toppings to gnaw on a toasted muffin edge while tapping on her phone, and her husband scanned the headlines on his tablet as his fork blindly stabbed at the plate.

“I had a nightmare,” Kate proclaimed to her family.

They ignored her.

As per usual.

 “I said…” clearing her throat, Kate sat at the table, reached across her daughter’s line of vision where her palm covered her son’s tablet, as the other held her husband’s wrist. “I had a nightmare last night.”

They just blinked at her.

“I was in front of a gravesite where a priest was performing the last rites.”

“A premonition,” said the daughter, returning her attention to her phone. Father and son mirrored a half eye roll to each other and also resumed to stare at their vices.

“I think so, but I never saw the name and it scared me. So, I want you all to be extra careful today.”

“Whatever, mum,” muttered her son as he rose from the table.

“I mean it,” said Kate, following she hugged him. She grinned at him while ruffling up his hair that her son had spent ages in front of the mirror trying to perfect his messy cool. With a wild head flick, he spilled his workbooks from his backpack and onto the floor. “Those go in your room.”

“Later, don’t need them for today’s class.”

She’d pick them up herself and they both knew it.

“Be careful today,” Kate said, hugging her daughter who was too busy tapping on her phone’s screen. Then she turned to her husband who was patting his jacket’s pockets for wallet and phone. “Careful driving.”

“Yep. Gotta go or we’ll be late.” He gave his wife a peck on the cheek and headed for the door juggling the car keys in hand.

“I love you all,” cried out Kate, watching them leave without a backward glance. None of them even said goodbye. “Be safe.”  Her words echoed with the slam of the front door that was soon swallowed by the pressing silence of an empty house.

She cleared away the breakfast table, flicked on the tap to fill the sink. Turned to wipe the bench, lifted the toaster to wipe away the breadcrumbs when her footing slipped on her son’s glossy covered workbooks. She gripped the sink as the toaster fell into the soapy water. The lights flickered in the house as the smell of burnt hair and an acrid electrical smoke permeated the air, but it wasn’t enough to set off the fire alarm.

Everything fell silent, including Kate, dead before her body crumbled to the floor.

(556 words)

from HOME SWEET ~ NOT!

HSN TW2

#HomeSweetNot #R&Rramblings #RuralRomanticRamblings

Date Night Drama

As a gentleman, he opened the door and she stepped inside. Then lunged like a savage, pushing her against the closing door. Chests pressed. He latched onto her locks, forcing her head back. Lips parted, licking into her sweet, hot mouth as if indulging in the intoxicating taste of a new lover.

Hearts hammered, pulses pounded. Ravenous hands raked at her skirt, while his lips lavished her smooth sensuous throat. Her purring moan a Siren’s soul song, drowning him within this tsunami of inflamed emotions.

Her knee lifted, steering his palm that slid along sumptuous silk stockings towards lace. A chesty growl escaped while touching his temptress’s sinful fleshy thighs. His mouth watered, body shuddered. Feverish fingers fondled her voluptuous curves, so soft, yielding, trembling against his hardened hunger.

Humanity surrendered, as the primal inner beast unleashed. Pinning his seductress to the wall, he rocked against Nirvana’s door.

“EWW.” From behind them, the young woman dry retched.

They froze.

“Thanks a lot! I’m scarred for life. Damaged.” Palm slapped over eyes, gagging, she staggered away with milk and cookies in hand. A door slammed and loud music erupted.

“That’s our cue.” Lifting his lady to his chest. Wrapped her legs around his waist.

Laughing, she ripped off his tie. “For once, I’m not telling her to turn the music down.”

He carried his prize along the hall. “Hey, if we keep this up the kids should move out soon. Twenty years of marriage, baby – we’ve still got it.” And kick-slammed their bedroom shut behind them.

(250 words)

Part of flash fiction collection found in HOME SWEET ~ NOT!

HSN TW2

#HOMESWEETNOT #RuralRomanticRamblings #RandRramblings