Friday September 30th, 2016

The exercise:

On this, the final day of September (whaaaat?), let us write four lines of prose about: the crime scene.

Work went by pretty quickly this morning. Had a couple interesting phone calls while covering at Town Hall (a contractor hitting a water line while digging a hole was the definite highlight) and then I was done for the day.

And now, all of a sudden, it's the weekend.

Hoping to check out the Garlic Festival at Hester Creek tomorrow. Should be fun, as long as colds don't keep Miles or Kat from enjoying it.

(I'm somehow still avoiding catching their colds but I don't want to jinx it by talking about it)

Mine:

The wind is picking up, making the police tape strung between the trees crinkle and flap. It's also dispersing the smell, so I'm not going to complain - even if it is making the chill in the air more piercing.

As I watch the techs examine the bodies I start to go through various possible motives in my head while I wait for them to give me the go ahead to get in there myself.

Money, sex, power, drugs, politics... it never fails to be one of those... not in this city anyway.

2 Comments:

Greg said...

I think garlic is supposed to be good for curing colds so you should go even if you do have them! And you can always take protest signs with you -- "Unfair to Vampires"!
September's a short month, you shouldn't be surprised that it's evaporated already :) And your water-pipe sounds amusing too.
You've put a lot of scene building in in just four lines, which is very impressive and makes me a touch jealous. I really feel like I'm standing there with the narrator (and Malta never matches that description!).

The crime scene
Mother was in one of her moods again: she shepherded us all into the kitchen and pointed at the half-eaten cake dramatically and declared, "The crime scene!"
"I think George did it in the living room with the bread knife," said my sister immediately.
"I think Emily did it in the bathroom with the candlestick and her boyfriend," responded George.
"This is not a game of Cluedo!" shrieked my mother, her perm starting to uncurl at the tips.

[I believe Cluedo is called Clue! on the north American continent.]

Marc said...

Greg - hah, I shall remember to bring protest signs next year :)

Hah! And yes, it is :)

Fun scene, and I quite like the quick responses from the kids.