Harry led Chloe along a track through the forest.
‘It’s only a little further. It’s perfect. Hidden. Secluded.’
Chloe halted. ‘Look.’
‘What?’
‘Over there.’ Chloe pointed at a pile of leaves. ‘A red shoe.’
‘Probably dumped there.’
‘I don’t think so.’ Chloe edged nearer. ‘It’s a body.’
Harry approached the shoe and leg. ‘We need to call the police.’
‘They’ll find out we were together.’
‘I’ll say I found her.’
‘But our footprints.’
‘I can ring them anonymously.’
‘There’s no phone boxes anymore, Harry.’
‘We can’t just leave her.’
‘My mum, will kill me.’
‘At least we’re wearing black shoes.’
A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.
1 comment:
Not at all the sort of end Harry'd hoped for, I'd expect, Rob. Well done - and I like the perspective...
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