I pace around the kitchen in a panic, what had I done? Margaret was dead and it was my fault. It was an accident, of course, she just tripped and fell. Roger would be home any minute.
Not knowing what to do, I slip out through the cat-flap and climb up onto the shed roof. I shall act normal, I shall sit and wait for Roger just like I do every day. Then I will try and comfort him when he makes the grim discovery.
They’re always telling me off for rubbing around their legs, now I understand why.
Could you tell a story in just 99 words?
Try your hand at your own miniature fiction for my weekly Monday feature. Anything goes, but must be exactly 99 words not including title.
PM me your story along with any links/bio you would like me to add.