A New Leaf (2014)
Death is never swift.
When the heart stops beating, it can take twenty seconds for the brain to get with the program. It took this guy fifteen. Once he finally stops twitching, I dump him by the diaper pail. His pockets are empty but I know who sent him. I scan the darkness outside the window, but all seems well in the sleepy little suburb. At best, I have three hours before they come looking. I scoop my squalling son into my arms, grab my purse, and then lock the door behind me. So much for turning a new leaf.
(Written for Suzie Townsend’s 100 word story contest, April 18, 2014).
Weekend at Bob’s (2017)
Down to the wire. A merger three years in the making. An overdue vacation planned (I could feel Bermuda’s sands between my toes). In 48 hours I’d be a free man.
The death jeopardized everything. The signs were brewing for months: the headaches, the shaking, the slurring. But Bob Wren just couldn’t make it two more days. Now, I’m screwed.
The target doesn’t know, but their lawyers were clear: Drive us deep into the red, but no Bob, no merger.
Bob must be present.
“Did anyone specify alive?”
New plan: dig up the boss, Weekend at Bernie’s style.
(Written for Janet Reid’s 100 word story contest, Feb 11, 2017)