“Uh-oh, looks like you’ve got quite a mess here, Miss,” the detective said, pointing to the candle. “Shouldn’t let them burn so long.”
She nodded and tried her best to look sad. Good thing the detective couldn’t see what was underneath the wax. Bobby’s blood. But she had done a good job, delicately and intricately drizzling the candle wax over the blood drips stained into the wood.
“Well, you get some sleep, Miss,” the detective said. “We’ll keep looking for Bobby.”
She smiled, trying not to look relieved. Now if only there was a candle big enough to hide the body.
My story this week is in a genre that I call: Just Finished Watching A Twin Peaks Marathon On Netflix In 2 Days (It’s funny how much influence something like that has).
Friday Fictioneers: a story in 100 words prompted by a photo that Rochelle Wisoff-Fields posts every Wednesday. Photo Credit: ©Renee Heath