This post is written for Friday Fictioneer’s. 

A quiet stream runs behind the old white house. It provides a perfect reflection of the crime to occur.  It will be dark in a few minutes. I can visualize the family inside. At least they are having a festive time. I can just picture the Christmas decorations around the tree. Ellen’s time is just about up. She had her opportunity but she choose him. That will be a fateful decision. Bitch! Snow is in the forecast. The snow will hide my footprints. One step at a time as they say. Here I come Ellen!


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