Occasionally on the blog I’ll post a bit of short fiction for you my readers to take a look at. Please feel free to leave any feedback in the comments.
With out further ado I present Bitter. A short story about a crime gone wrong. This short story came from a friends writing prompt. The opening two paragraphs are his, the rest mine.
I woke up in the hotel room. The dead body on the floor was disconcerting, to say the least. The gleaming windows showed the reflection of blue and red lights, and I could hear the sound of the sirens, just winding down. Then, I noticed I was covered in blood.
This wasn’t good. I didn’t remember what had happened before. Obviously something had. But what? I shook my head, but nothing came rushing back to me. My mouth tasted of blood, bitter and salty. A harsh pounding at the door brought me back to my current predicament.
“Open up! It’s the Police!”
Great. I glanced toward the cheap door, it was festooned with deadbolts, chains, latches, and a chest of drawers had been pushed in front of it. The windows were barred; what kind of bad neighborhood was this?
I knew this wasn’t where I lived, but I wasn’t sure why I was here. Lord have mercy my head was pounding like a Petunia Bowl parade band was marching down Frontal Lobe Avenue. I picked myself off the floor and looked at the stiff.