This week’s Friday-Fictioneers prompt from Rochelle felt a touch claustrophobic for me as I prefer some natural light. The picture reminded me of a basement where the writer had been banished until something productive was produced. My theme for this week.
All other stories from the group are available HERE.
The First Sentence
I murdered five people in my basement. Backed into a corner, my victims stumbled to their death unwittingly. Did I feel any compassion for them? Strangely, I worried myself asleep with utter sadness.
Susan was the youngest, a pretty corporate lawyer; I fell in love with the way she cocked her head and gave a smug smile.
Jack! Well! An obnoxious obese taxi driver now rotting in several landfill sites.
I craved the psychological tension, the excitement of twisting my victims’ lives with unresolved conflicts and agonising passions.
My best seller.
If only I can fix my troublesome first sentence.