The gate to No-man’s land

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…..

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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: