She turned around and saw him; lying on his back. Right hand at an angle, right leg too in an angle. The expression on his face that of shock, eyes like saucers, the hair on his forehead standing out, ears protruding. Perfect expression of shock, she chuckled to herself.
The scene too was perfect, the room in the woods, no witnesses, the walk that they had taken, so no tyre marks, her soft boots which left very soft footprints. The blood trickled down, drop by drop from the wound in the chest.
She chuckled again.
Perfectionism; that was her motto.
The word this week for Velvet Verbosity’s 100 words challenge is ‘Perfectionism’.
I know it’s a bit gruesome but so what I had fun writing it. 😛