Cover My Tracks. Please.
This post is submitted to Friday Fictioneers.
The snow was unexpected. It was not in the weather forecast. The yard was like a large whiteboard waiting for the artist. The snow presented a problem.
Sara’s husband Richard worked third shift at the factory. Normally Peter could spend the night and leave with no trace early in the next morning. The affair had been going on for some time. He had become comfortable with the arrangement. He would arrive around eleven thirty at night and leave around five in the morning. Plenty of time to enjoy the company of Sara and leave no trace behind.