ALL THE PIECES
It had never ended this bad before. The man thought as he scrubbed his hands furiously, being sure to scrub under his fingernails, trying to wash away all trace of the evidence. He stuck his hand under the running tap and watched as soapy water, tinged red with blood, swirled around the drain before disappearing. When he was sure all trace of blood was washed from his hands, he set about the task of cleaning down anything his hands might have touched, including the faucet and door knob. He went back to the room, his eyes straying to where the young girl lay, her unstaring eyes wide open, the blood that ran down her cut neck starting to congeal and dry. He shook his head. It was her fault, he thought. If only she didn’t open her eyes just when he was going to place the calabash on her head, took a look at the red cloth tied around his waist and start to scream. Now he was stuck in this dilemma because she chose not to stay put. He found the knife he had used and being careful to avoid i...