a witness

Yelling and shouting, I heard. Oh, I don’t know about what. I just saw the truck leave the driveway shortly after. I’d heard them argue before. They scream all the time. They don’t talk. They shout.

One morning, I recall, she stomped out of the house, screaming, “I’ll kill you.” Then he came out, grabbed her, and went inside with her. The whole time, her voice shrieking, “I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you.” Oh, it was horrible.

Ah, what? His truck and body… Oh, that’s awful. Who could’ve done it? I’ve no idea.

For Friday Fictioneers – 11 February 2022.

PHOTO PROMPT © Bill Reynolds

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