19 February 2021 - 15 Minute Fiction Friday
She stumbled backwards, clutching the spattered marble bust, with the early curtailments of shock washing over her body.
Years of cruelty lay spread-eagled across their bedroom floor, blood oozing outwards from the fatal blow.
“Winston, what have we done?” she said blankly, turning to look at him standing loyally at her feet.
Winston released his grip upon the figure below, the distraction she had needed, and stared back up at her accusatorily, suggesting in no uncertain terms that they did not share blame for this.
She laughed, harder than she had laughed in years. It was over… but what now?