Friday Fictioneers – Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple
Murder on the Express
He saw her alone in the compartment and went in.
She was exquisitely beautiful, young and naïve. Her diamond necklace, those earrings and that fur coat would sell for ten year’s rent. He’ll take them in the tunnel.
He was handsome with a charming smile and looking for company on a long journey, she thought. Something was wrong, a premonition and itch in her new Louboutin stilettos.
The train rattled into the darkness.
At her stop, she wiped the blood from her shoe. Kissed his forehead above the blooded hole. “Goodbye,” she laughed, “what a shame.”