It was a ‘whodunnit’ of Hercule-Poirot-ean proportions, but viler and more violent than Ms Christie tended to write.
As a rapid response paramedic, Tom was used to seeing the gore and guts of a situation gone badly awry, and was even used to milling around with the ‘boys in blue’ (black, these days, with luminous yellow overlay, bulletproof vests, and Tazers) whilst the death was officialised and crime scene photographs taken before the body was removed to the mortuary.
But he wasn’t used to the sleepy silence of this village being shattered by the blaring presence of emergency vehicles, media trucks, and their itinerant hoards. He wasn’t used to the idea that the men and women he’d grown up with were all under suspicion, now packed into the village hall ready for interviews, storms of mutinous outrage whirling across their heads; thundering voices punctuating the conversation with old prejudices, whilst the bunting outside – forlorn standards of the village fete – hung limply in the sunset.
His spirit baulked at the thought that any of those good, middle-class people had anything to do with what had happened overnight, but he couldn’t deny that there was an undertone of steely secrecy in their demeanours, coupled with a guarded and surly refutation of any knowledge of the facts.
It was, however, a fact that there had been a murder most foul, leaving a young, brown body cloven in two across the steps of the war memorial – and someone knew something about it.
Many thanks to Ivy and her wonderful Six Sentence Stories prompt ‘Standard’
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Oh yeah!
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π
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Wow, Lizzi. A body cloven in two? I am off to read this week’s sequel.
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Oh yes indeed! I didn’t know it would be there until the end…
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This story is very captivating and one remains hanging, wondering why and who had done the foul deed … why is the whole town afflicted with a bad case of steely omertΓ … ah yes, I’d say an new instalment would me much appreciated!
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Why thank you very much! I’m going to have to look up ‘omerta’ and see what it means, but I’m glad to hear you’d appreciate another installment. There’s a good prompt for this week, which I think I can use π
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Ah … thought everyone knew what omerta meant it’s probably slipped out of the language over the past years. Happy writing!
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NOW I know…wow. I love that I learned a new word, though – thank you! π
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π welcome.
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Holy crap, Lizzy! This was all too possibly real!
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Sadly so, and a wry look at the times in which we live *sigh* Thanks though π
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I would really, really like to know what happens next. π
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There may be another installment…
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Awesome job. I liked this the best “It was, however, a fact that there had been a murder most foul, leaving a young, brown body cloven in two across the steps of the war memorial β and someone knew something about it.”
It made me remember walking through the memorials in DC with you.
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Kayso most every little, sleepy village in England has a war memorial of some kind – usually in the village square or in a park or churchyard, and it tends to be a tall cross on a plinth, usually with a few steps up to it, and on the plinth are graven the names of the men from the village who lost their lives in the war.
Simple, old-fashioned, and usually integral. Nothing so fancy or artistic as the ones we saw, but nonetheless poignant.
To defile such a cherished monument with blood is a statement in its own right, I think.
That day with you in DC was stilling and very powerful. Especially on the heels of having spent 9/11 in NYC. I’m so glad you took me to see the monuments. π
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Lizzi, your murder most foul is most excellent. I love the last end – the brown body cloven in two. Eep! *turns on light to go to sleep*
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MUA HA HAAAAA! Thank you – I was pleased with that. I like the juxtaposition of a simple village fete and a middle-class, mostly elderly populace, with something so incredibly violent and powerful…like HOW?!?!
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Of course someone knew something. Someone always knows. They’re not telling though.
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They’re not, and the ranks are closing against the authorities…
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Well done. Lots of questions left unanswered.
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*grins* Hercule would be ALL FOR gathering everyone together in the big room for the reveal…
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Nicely done! I wasn’t sure how people would interpret this prompt, me likee.
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Why thank you so much π I had a lot of fun with the prompt. I do love this hop…it’s such a simple way to spark creativity.
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I enjoyed the story (and I liked it as well as admired it)… no, just because I’m all about, “how did she create such a vivid scene and setting and characters-to-be, doesn’t mean it’s not still just fun to let the words show me a place I’ve never been to before!
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Awwh THANK YOU π
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Underlying this is the mistrust of strangers (the police) coming into the community and questioning everyone when one of them had taken the law in their own hands (thank goodness and about time and good riddance).
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Maybe, or perhaps they are banded together in a pact of silence and old thinking…
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Movies and books in which you kind of know or at least suspect many people have information but nobody is talking freak me out for some reason…. I think its the insinuation that anyone when protected by a group can do some pretty foul s***. Scary to me.
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Yes…I feel that way about a whole bunch of things at the moment – that there are groups in the know, and groups deliberately being kept in the dark. Dodgy times.
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I agree – that is some of the scariest shit out there.
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OOOO! There must be another six sentences brewing, right?
Love the suspense and build behind what happens next.
You have a multitude of talents dear Lizzi π
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Awwwh FANX Michelle β€ And I dunno – I don't know what the prompt is for next week, but depending on that, I wonder if I could weave it into the next part of this story!
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MUAH!
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Talk about a cliff hanger! I want the rest. i want to know who done it and why and how and – all of it. Oh, most excellent. The game’s afoot. The little grey cells are working. The ghosts of Agnatha and Sir Arthur are grinning. Love it!
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There is most assuredly a game afoot, though quite how the players will play it remains to be seen!
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LOVE it!!! You are such a talent
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*grins* Why thank you ma’am! π
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