Predate

[Note:- This is my entry for this week's 3WordWednesday and the story is a follow up to my last week's entry]

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You heard her door open at 9:30?

No.

Mrs S_____,

Its Miss S_____. A petulant bell that house has. Makes quite a racket.

So you saw him enter?

You see, it drones on in your head...like an old car on ignition for too long. Not good for an old woman.

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Who's at the door?

It's the pizza, ma'm.

An outage.

Seems the world is conspiring against you.

I know who you are.

Indeed you do. So don't bother with the phone.

I don't deserve to die.

Well, you don't deserve to live either.

The police are outside.

They won't be bothered. They will be happier were you to die.

Uh..Why?

Your death will be the speck of sense that they seek. Like at a terminal, "I announce the departure of ..." and they will clamber up...

On your trail. So I am the signpost at the fork on the road.

Not you. Your death.

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What's on the table?

Its the pizza.

And the note?

"I paid for the pizza and tipped him too. You can have it. :-) "

What a sense of humour...

Rotten, I would say.

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Endplay

3 Word Wednesday entry.

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A corpse is an ebbed out wave.

Chuckle. Good.

Squats beside and inspects.

The exit wound.

Where?

Pointing to it. There.

Let there be light.

Nod.

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Phone rings. Thanks.

What time?

10 : 30

That is too late. He was seen entering the house at 9:30. What did he wait for?

Not him. Her. Stave it off for us may be.

Negotiating with a serial killer. Click tongue.

We are always late aren't we?

Well at least we know who it is the next time.

Yeah. Not random anymore.

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