By Lesley Bungay
The table appeared outside number 36 the day Mrs. Brown passed away.
No one knew where it came from. The residents of Cypress Avenue gathered, placed chrysanthemums, lit candles.
She was very old, wasn’t she?
No family, someone said.
On Wednesday morning, the shrine was outside number 42. No one saw who moved it.
That evening, its middle-aged occupant died. More neighbours came, refreshed the flowers, expressed surprise.
He was fit, wasn’t he?
Jogged every day, someone said.
Lived alone.
Two days later, the altar moved again. No one admitted responsibility. Everyone congregated. Exchanged nervous glances. Created a vigil. Waited anxiously.
Good story Lesley. I’d take an axe to it lol
Ha ha, yes me too ?
Hello Lesley,
Clever! I think this is an investigative case for Inspector Endeavor Morse.
Precisely!
Thanks Cathryn. Mmm wonder what he’d make of it ?
Excellent. 101 words of deliciously crafted writing.
Thank you so much Tim ?
Clever, clear and beautifully written, left us wanting more.
Thank you Liz, that’s very kind ?
Intriguing
I aim to be ??
Hmmm, this is a good one! Maybe one for Inspector Hercule Poirot!
I can see his moustache twitching ?
Thank you for all the comments. Just realised my smiley faces show up as question marks in my replies!
Nicely done!
Thank you so much.
Beware the dreaded tabula eraser! Clever and original.
Thank you
Cool story, Lesley. Can I borrow your table? I have this neighbor….
Ha ha! Thank you
Well done!
Thanks
Excellent read that left me in suspense as to who would be next… Kudos …
Thank you so much
Great job transitioning to a tense mystery, within 101 words!
Thank you so much!
O so suspenseful! Fantastic!
Thank you for your kind comments
I really enjoyed this! Nicely done!
Thank you
I’m a bit behind with end-of-term-itus, so have only just read this. Congratulations!
Thank you Laura