It was confusing, that’s for sure. I announced the winner for this week’s Five Minute Fiction Challenge once the poll had closed at 9:30. Well, looks like blogger was holding out on me and the next day two more votes had shown up, and the announced winner had been toppled by:
Splinker! or @asifre
Under that mask he’s known as Adam Sifre and he’s a talented…zombie! OK, he writes about zombies. Same difference. But he’s funny hell and writes well no matter what he tackles.
(If you’re confused, he had login issues and posted this week as “Anonymous” with his name showing up randomly after the first paragraph of his entry.)
Now Robert James Russell, @robhollywood shares the glory because it was soooo close during the voting and I could have sworn he won. At least, blogger told me he had. You go, Robert James Russell.
Posted below is Splinker’s entry.
If you don’t come ’round next week to show him how Five Minute Fiction is really done, you may end up wanting braaaiiinnnnssss…..
He looked peaceful. Contemplative, really. If it weren’t for the fly crawling over his eye-lid, Janet suspected that no one would have thought anything was amiss. Not that there was anyone else here. She closed the door and went to wash up.
There was surprisingly little blood on her hands and other than a few scratches on her forearms, she looked no worse for wear. Still, just to be safe she took a quick shower, paying special attention to her arms and fingernails.
The whole thing had excited her immensely and she took a few minutes to pleasure herself in the shower.
When she was done, she toweled off, put on a robe, and popped her head inside the room.
He had company. Or rather, more company. Several flies were buzzing around his face, landing on open eyes, lips, and nostrils. Taking off again. Janet glanced at the windows, but they were both closed. Frowning, she closed the door and went downstairs.
She had intended to make herself a sandwich, but she couldn’t seem to find her appetite. Instead, she made her phone call, telling the police that she had been in the shower when she heard noises. Now her husband was dead, the front door was broken open and she was terrified someone else was still in the house. She sounded very convincing. She hung up the phone and waited.
Everything was dead quiet, as it should be. God only knows why, but she felt compelled to pop her head in the room one last time and check on the body. As she opened the door, she was greeted, then consumed, by a roar of buzzing.
When the police came, they found a broken door, and a dead silent house. No body. No victim.
Not even a fly.