The door to the apartment building stands open. The dingy hallway beyond is anything but inviting. But, I made a promise.
I peek through the slot into the mailbox. It is empty. She is already at home. I follow the man who entered the building before me. He was back to finish the job. As we climb the stairs together, the fluorescent light bulb flickers. The man glances over his shoulder. He does not see me.
I was not a violent man in life. In death, now that’s another story. I won’t let him hurt her. I made a promise.
This story is my contribution to “Friday Fictioneers,” a weekly challenge hosted by the lovely Rochelle Wisoff Fields. With the help of a photo prompt to inspire, we’re to write a 100-word story. The photo this week was provided by Roger Bultot.
If you would like to join in with this encouraging group of writers or read their stories from this week, visit here.
Stay safe, stay well, and thank you for stopping by!