By Tim Craig
“There was another murder last night,” she tells him over breakfast. “A seventeen-year-old from the estate, it says on the local news site. There are big bunches of flowers on the corner.”
“I hope it wasn’t one of the kids’ friends,” he says, though he knows it won’t be. He knows it will be a gang thing, a drugs thing. Nothing their children would ever be mixed up in, please Jesus.
“It’s so senseless,” she says. “And it never stops. I mean, who wins? Who benefits?” But she knows the answer, even as she asks the question.
“The florists,” he says.
Very sad story about an all too familiar occurrence. Nicely done!
Nicely done. Perfect dark humor. And so true.
Definitely wasn’t expecting that last line! Concluded with a twist of cruel irony. Stirling.