|Margie rocked back on her heels admiring her work – a now fully planted flowerbed. The daffodils will bloom first, then the tulips, and finally the daisies. I’ll enjoy it throughout the rest of the season. ‘Pretty as a peacock’ as Grams used to say.
She reviewed her yard. The old oak stood in the back yard, towering over her 1952 home. The fresh cut lawn, the trimmed bushes lining the property lines, and the newly hung flower baskets on the porch completed the scene. Margie sighed as her eyes wandered across the street.
A rusty car on blocks adorned the front yard. An eave slanted toward the ground. A scraggly bramble bush survived next to the weed-filled walkway. Brown patches dotted the grassy areas. She strode to the sidewalk and looked up and down the neighborhood. A similar panorama greeted her. Why don’t people take care of their property anymore? Ed would have never let a house get that way.
She glanced into her neighbor’s uncurtained bay window where two TV’s could be seen. One displayed some kind of video game and the other had “Predator” on it. All the kids huddled in front of them.
“Hey, lady.” A gruff voice from behind her said, “You got any money?”
She turned to face the six foot man. His wild hair partially obscured his face. “No.”
“You got a nice house. Surely you have some money to spare.”
“I just get by with social security and my husband’s pension.”
“Liar! Get me some money!” The man flipped out a switchblade.
“No.” Margie stomped her foot, and glared at him.
They found Margie’s body lying in a pool of blood upon her perfect walkway, next to her perfect lawn, beneath her perfect bushes, and in front of her perfect house…
Flash Story Must contain: Peacock, Predator, Flowerbed
© Copyright 2010 BScholl (UN: the0hawk at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved.
BScholl has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
|Log In To Leave Feedback|