One Woman’s Trash…

Friday Fictioneers is simple: write a post (100 words or so) based on a photo prompt. Led every week by Rochelle, you can find the other stories by clicking the little blue frog. So read along or write your own–or both!

copyright John Nixon

copyright John Nixon

         Beatrice smiled at old Mr. Garret as she passed Sue-Anne’s Second Hand store. No matter what Sue-Anne said, that out-of-date wedding dress was never coming back in style.
        She glanced at the wares in the storefront, on the lookout for bargains. The legs of a bright blue wooden table draped in white caught Bea’s eye. Her heart hammered.
         But how did it get there?
         She scrubbed for hours before consigning it to the curb. She knew there was a dent on the edge and a rusty red smear that wouldn’t come off.
         Bea smiled. One woman’s murder weapon, another’s treasure.

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21 thoughts on “One Woman’s Trash…

  1. Very cleverly told, with lots of details, but I am still wondering how this murder took place. Can’t see someone picking it up and smashing someone’s head in, so I am betting on the head smashing down on the table. But see what you started?

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