By Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
John clutched my throat and pushed me against the bedroom wall.
“Damn you, Tracy, you whore! Who is he?” His spit spurted on my face.
John loosened his grip and I collapsed onto the bed. I rubbed my neck and gasped for air.
“You cheated on me!” John swung his hand across the dresser. My makeup spilled and our wedding frame shattered.
John came at me with flaying arms. I grabbed my grandmother’s antique glass vase and hit him over the head. He fell to the ground with a thump. Blood splattered.
I sat motionless and stared at his dead body.
This is good, as far as it goes. But it is more the introduction to a good crime fiction story and deserves to be expanded so that we learn more about the characters, especially Tracy, since this is her story.