
She sat at the bar, absentmindedly lifting the glass to her lips to let the bourbon and vodka sear down her throat. His cello laid in the corner, its neck separated from the body. “Go ahead, pull the trigger.” She said as footsteps entered the room. “There is nothing that can heal me from this pain.” Tears fell down her face.
Holding the gun, she sighed and returned the gun to its holster. She climbed onto the seat next and said, “I know, that is why I’m letting you live, so you can endure the pain of murdering my brother.”
(100 words)
Each week, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple hosts Friday Fictioneers where we’re challenged to write a piece of flash fiction in 100 words, more or less, based on the picture above.
Very nice.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks. 🙂
LikeLike
Very dramatic take from such a peaceful prompt! Nice one.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Living with the deed is often worse…
LikeLiked by 1 person
It is definitely worse.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Wow. Packs a punch at the end. No one expected this lost lonely women murdered the potential shooters brother. She must have loved him to hurt so much.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I think she was forced to commit the murder or perhaps she was faking her love for him but that love turned real in the end.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I think that most killers regret… living is a punishment.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I think so too.
LikeLike