The Wrong Murder

He cackled. The sound of his voice pierced the air. “You and me both.”

I folded my arms together, pressing them against my chest. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing! It wasn’t important.”

My eyes widened. “If you have something to say, you should just say it.”

“What’s the point?” Julian asked. “It’s not like you would listen to me.”

I pursed my lips. “Is this because I didn’t go to the store yesterday and get the milk?”

About me

This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)