Magic, Mystery, a little Whisky, and a Cat

Self Defense

Friday Fictioneers contribution for March 14. Join the fun at

copyright-Adam Ickes
copyright-Adam Ickes

Self Defense

“My leg’s broke.” He clinched his teeth. The barrel rumbled over the planked pier as they pushed it to the boathouse in the lake’s center. Each step brought grinding pain.

“Don’t be a baby.” She didn’t spare a glance.

A cool, fish-scented breeze wafted across the water.  Not another soul around. How long would their luck last?

“Help me get it over the rail.”

A gut-wrenching pull, a splash, and a burble. The barrel sank.

“Bad editors,” she said as the bubbles stopped, “deserve drowning.”

He had to agree. He rubbed his aching leg. At least he could still type.

I admit I was stumped for a topic as I looked at this picture.  When I described it to hubby, he said, “Hmm. Sounds like a good place to dump a body.” And that, as they say, was that.

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