Skip to main content

A 'SLICE' OF LIFE

Prompt: In 500 words, write a story you always wanted to. No genre constraints.

Pull the rug with the last line such that it changes the entire context of your story.

*****

Plodding through the ankle deep snow in the fading light, Zoe couldn't wait to get indoors. The street leading to the colony was deserted and the neighboring houses were empty as everyone was away for the holidays. 

The shadows cast by the streetlights looked unusually eerie in the icy silence. A slight ruffle in the breeze made her jump out of her skin!

As she turned her head warily, a flier fluttering on the lamppost outside the house caught her attention. Zoe ripped it off to have a closer look and her eyes widened.  

Serial killer at large! Extra caution for girls especially if you're a redhead residing in and around Lyndale District.Report to the nearest police station if sighted. 

A familiar face, the same one doing the rounds on primetime on this sensational news was now on fliers. These alerts pasted outside every house was definitely not good news for this neighborhood. 

Redheads... that hoity-toity Brittany who always picked on meek girls all through school and made everyday life a living hell for them...The killer should get Brittany someday...!!

Meanwhile, she twirled her own locks and exhaling sharply, curbed her thoughts. It was past dinner time and she hurried along, cramming the flier into her pocket. The house was in darkness as she approached it. The cook had left long ago and as usual forgotten to leave the porch light on. She let herself in after a bout of frustration when the lock wouldn't give in at first. 

The door finally budged and Zoe let herself in. The living room was bathed in an orange light spilling from the street lamps. She was ravenous by now. Having skipped lunch, upon entering the kitchen, the whiff of warm food tempted her to dig in instantly.

But first things first… 

Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted and she stopped in her tracks when she heard a shuffling outside the front door. Wringing her hands together, she froze even as her heart started racing. There were no other occupied houses for another few hundred meters or so…

Could it be…?! 

She sensed some hesitation outside and a saw a blurred silhouette through the fancy frosted pane. 

Had she inadvertantly left the door ajar? 

There was no time to think...

Upstairs!

With a pounding heart, she grabbed the largest knife from the drawer and tiptoed her way up as quickly and quietly as she could. She reached the landing just as the front door opened wide. A long shadow fell across the hardwood floor.

Just as she slipped into the bedroom, Zoe could hear the footsteps at the bottom of the stairs!

Now what…!

HIDE! NOW! Her brain seemed to scream even as she slipped into a closet, her fingers clutching the serrated knife, turning white. 

Anytime now! 

She had to be quick when she went straight for the jugular! As Zoe clenched her free hand in her pocket, she found the flier from earlier. 

It was her own mugshot that stared back at her and she could barely contain a giggle this time. Until Brittany was found, every redhead deserved a 'slice of life!'

©️ Sangeetha Kamath

Pic Courtesy: Image by R23X from Pixabay 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

ABERCROMBIE LOCKE MANSION

This post is part of the Blogchatter A2Z Challenge 2026.                                                  CHAPTER 1        ABERCROMBIE LOCKE MANSION  The sky bled bruises of plum and cherry over the rolling hills. A full moon hung low against the mauve casting silver shards through the trees. The mansion made of cold greystone loomed large beyond the rusted iron gates. It grated on the gravel, rasping on the hinges and yawned open like a predator's jaw as Goldwynn booted it open with her foot. Her sneakers squished heavily on the mulch of dead leaves. Clutching her backpack, she looked up at the towering, grim structure forebodingly.  "Are you sure you want to do this?" her friend Lexi whispered, hesitating by the gate. "This mansion's totally cursed, they say." Lexi's voice was a thin thread. A chill crept up her back and she tight...

Moxie N' Mettle

                                MOXIE N' METTLE  In slivers and fragments as my sleep tiptoes, did I do right or wrong my heart needles… Some skies are born of black holes and tempest wreck,  There glitters not a ray of light, nor a speck When curtains turbid hold all light hostage,  Sandstorms, hailstorms, dust storms, snowstorms, windstorms assail and ravage Spanning my wings as a raging fire  Or as a mellow glow of a fairy light in the distant darkness, quite debonaire I'll ignite my spark from within like a star born into itself spurting lava Or explode leaving trails of cosmic dust like a Supernova I will be the Sun creating galaxies and many a constellation.  Or burn like a single flame of the candle to keep my hopes and dreams alive with determination! I will be at my own pace I will be whoever and whatever I want to be—in my own race Collapse, crash and crumble! But I'll...

RUTHLESS REVELATIONS (DAY 16, LETTER R)

                            CHAPTER 15                RUTHLESS REVELATIONS The Three Little Pigs stood triumphant in the whimsical cottage's living room, surrounded by mismatched furniture and waltzing dust motes. Baconne , Porkinn , and Swinedell grinned at each other, puffing out their chests like gangsters. Baconne swaggered closer to the makeshift bar. "You know," he said, stroking his shoulder, "the Big Bad Wolf wasn't so bad after all, was he?" His grin split wide, showing a gold-capped tooth. The pigs snorted, their belly laughs vibrating the chandeliers above. Swinedell poured three tiny glasses of wild truffle liqueur with a theatrical flourish. "Cheers to us!" he growled, hoisting a glass. "We wanted his posh cottage for ourselves. Wolfie mutt was just defending his pad." His eyes glinted like cheap jewels. Goldwynn's face paled. She stammered as she whispered, " Wha...

THE BIG BAD WOLF( DAY 17, LETTER T)

                          CHAPTER 16                    THE BIG BAD WOLF  The pigs snarled like proper rascals, fixing their cold steely eyes on the Wolf's cottage. How dare he refuse to part with his cottage! When the pigs demand, it's given to them---no questions asked! Porkinn limped, Baconne was soggy, Swinedell rubbed a sore bump on his head, but they were far from defeated. Swinedell snorted, a crooked grin spreading across his face. "Wolf thinks 'e's posh, don't 'e? " Baconne sniffed the air, his nostrils flaring. "We want the cottage!” He growled. Porkinn cracked his fingers, his sly glance darting about.  The pigs crept towards the back door, their footsteps silent on the soft grass. They spotted the Wolf through the kitchen window, stirring a pot of steaming stew for dinner. They kicked the door in, the wood splintering jaggedly. The latch gave in....

ANAM CARA

The waves are soft and frothy. Laced with gossamer frills tenderly kissing the tips of my toes covered with the grainy sand of the rugged seashore where I'm sitting, wistful. A gust of briny breeze tousles my hair as I gaze as far as my eyes can see.  A flock of terns wheel overhead, their sharp, shrill cries punctuating the air as they dive and swoop over the surfs. A lone frigate bird , its crimson belly dazzling like a jewel skims majestically above, its long, slender wings outstretched as it rides the thermals high above the ocean. I absorb the sights and sounds of the late afternoon while absentmindedly scooping seashells beside me. As the afternoon phases, the furthest rim of the ocean is fringed in a gilded hem and the sleepy sun yawns, its dipping glow streaking the sky in a mellow tangerine and warm cherry. As I continue sitting there, the ships and yachts appear --specks of light from the portholes glimmering in the distance, reminding me of the phrase “That ship has sai...