She is standing beside a corpse, hands bloody.
Who is he? Did she kill him? Why? I probe. She remains silent. I glean from the scene that it was self-defence.
Police, K9 units, courts, media – No, can’t have her deal with all that. I decide to bury him in the garden.
The garden gate isn’t opening though. I kick it hard. Still doesn’t budge. This is ridiculous. I decide to cut the body up . I try to pick up the chain-saw and I realize I’m paralysed.
Cleaning up murder may look easy on TV shows. It’s practically impossible in dreams.
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Sometimes there are these intense, panicky dreams that wake me up. But in that waking process – in that no-man’s/no-woman’s land between the unconscious and conscious mind -the dream is processed as if it were an actual event. The brain starts finding solutions to the problem in the dream- tries to put out fires – hide dead bodies . The memory of the actual dream is lost and I’m left like a detective with crime scene photos that get blurrier by the minute……Like a drunk stumbling upon a crime scene with blurred vision. Luckily my body remains paralysed in this sleep state otherwise you will find me searching for a chain-saw in the middle of the night and it would become very messy…Police , K9 units, courts and media…..
This 100 word story is written in response to the 100 word photo challenge posted by Rochelle Wisoff-Field each week. This week’s photo was provided by fellow Friday Fictioneer/ storyteller David Stewart.
Click on the ‘blue frog’ below to read other amazing takes on the same photo prompt: