Wednesday's Words on a Friday
The original Words for Wednesday was begun by Delores and eventually taken over by a moveable feast of participants when Delores had computer troubles.
The aim of the words is to encourage us to write. A story, a poem, whatever comes to mind.
If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please let us know so we can come along and read it.
This month the words are supplied by ME and can be found right here.
Here is my story:
I stepped around the body on the cold cement floor. “Looks like the seedy underbelly has risen to the surface, Danny boy.” “What the heck are you on about?” he asked. “Dunno,” I replied. Guess I’m watching too many B grade crime shows lately.” “Yeah, that’ll do it,” said Dan. “My mum talks like that after she’s been watching late night TV.”
Looking into the face of the dead Gloria, I muttered, “Not so queenly now are you?” “Queenly?” asked Dan. “Thought she was so high and mighty, lording it over the other girls like she was their queen bee or something, always ordering them to do little things for her, like they were servants or something. She even started wearing those little tiara things in her hair. Lately she’s just been so obnoxious, I’m not surprised someone offed her.”
“So you know this woman?” said Dan. “You don’t?” I was surprised. “I thought everyone in town knew Gloria. Highest paid hooker in the county. Had plans to retire and start her own brothel. Looks like those dreams have been for nought.” “Little young to be retiring, isn’t she?” said Dan.
“Nah, she’s just about middle aged, or maybe a bit more. Gloria here was chock-full of vanity and had more than her share of plastic surgery. I heard she even had her “virginity” restored, with a little tightening in the right places.”
Dan stared at me, speechless for almost a minute as he digested my words. “Can they actually do that?” he finally managed to whisper. “Sure,” I said. “Enough money and a good plastic surgeon, you can get just about anything done these days.” Dan said, “I need a drink.” He walked towards the vending machine against the back wall. “Get one for me.” I said.
We sipped our cokes, standing well back from the body so as not to spill any on her. Dan motioned to the timber stake through her throat. “Regardless of who she was, what she did, Gloria still deserves justice. We need to find her killer.” “Crime scene techs are on their way,” I said. “I called them as I drove in. They should be here any minute now with their little evidence baggies and fingerprint kits.”