Below is my inaugural submission to Flash Fiction Friday, the community that encourages us to flex our fiction writing muscles by penning a weekly piece of short fiction.
This week's prompt - caught with one's pants down.
Buona Sera, Kiss Me Goodnight
What does she need that ring for? She's dead. It's not like she's going to go flashing it around in anybody's face now.
Always waving her hand around in front of your face, she was. Didn't matter if she was at the beauty parlour or the grocery store or the bank, as soon as you but glanced in her direction, there she would go, flapping her damned hand around, making sure that the whole town knew that she had a genuine Eternity diamond.
It is pretty though, isn't it? See how it catches the light?
I notice you admiring that bracelet. Why yes, it was Wendy Poirier's. You have a good eye for baubles. She hardly has any use for it now, does she, being six feet under? I don't see why Emily Novak should be wearing those emerald earrings that you are reaching for either, not while she's feeding the worms, rest her soul.
Turn myself in? Oh I don't think so, my dear. You should be giving me a medal instead. If I hadn't rescued those baubles from the funeral home they would have been moldering on maggoty corpses now, instead of bringing a bit of sparkle and joy to the world. Nothing wrong with that.
And don't even think of trying to open that door. This pistol may be jewel-encrusted but the bullets aren't, so just sit back down and finish your tea. I'll pass you another date square.
That's a lovely watch you're wearing.