Member-only story
Short Fiction
The Grandmother Pushed the Blade Directly into His Heart
She rolled the body into the water as he slumped over
The Grandmother stepped slightly to the side to avoid the blood pumping out of the man’s chest. So messy. She wished she could have shot him, but it would have made too much noise. He was dead before he hit the water. She dragged the other three bodies to the edge and pushed them over. This incident began with a Shepherd’s pie.
009 came to Scotland on vacation. She was looking forward to a relaxing hike. She walked over to the pub for shepherd’s pie and a Tennent. She got her lager and sat near the back door to look out the window while waiting for her food. The Grandmother saw two women, one older, one younger, crouched together on the ground, heads down, tears falling out of their eyes: they were miserable. As she watched, the females climbed to their feet and entered the bar.
The older woman brought her food. She had bruises on her arm and a black eye. There were ligature marks on her wrists. The teenage girl, about fourteen, was bruised in the same way. The woman and the girl said nothing to her, and they did not raise their heads or eyes to look at her. They were foreign.
