Spilt coffee

‘He did it.’ Clarke said, watching a police car depart.

‘The world and her mother knows he did it, but why?’

‘He said she’d spilt his coffee.’

‘You don’t cave your wife’s head in over spilt coffee.’ Jones rolled his neck.  Over his shoulder one of the SOCOs laughed.

‘What’s so fucking funny?’ Clarke bellowed.

 ‘Meakins’ just ripped the arse out of his white suit,’ a voice answered, ignoring Clarke’s ire.

‘Jesus,’ Clarke muttered. ‘Thirty three. Two kids.’

‘He’ll get life.’

‘And be out in fifteen.’

‘Must have been some cup of coffee.’

‘It’s got fuck-all to do with coffee.’



A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.