Fool’s Night

He held her pubic hair as ransom in case she betrayed him again. He’d plant them at his next murder scene methodically in the shape of a pickle. He was sure it’d stump the crime scene investigators and force her to remember her recent indiscretions– swiping the last of the Mayo and garlic pickles! He’d waited all day to taste that cool, crunchy, and tangy combination! Oh, she’d pay and pay dearly. It was only a matter of time.

© privatethoughtsmadepublic. 2018.

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