“Well, I didn’t mean to kill him.”

A sigh came with her guilty surrender. “Alright, maybe I did mean to.” She smoothed a napkin over her lap before reaching across the table to clasp the inspector’s hand.  “Oh Detective, please understand. He was truly a slug of a man. Such boring dinner conversations, night after night. It drove me insane.”

“You killed your husband because of boring dinner conversations?”

No answer. Ever so casually, the woman returned to meal.

“You stabbed him several times,” The detective noted, exasperated. “With a butter knife.”

She sliced into her roast beef and shrugged. “Wouldn’t you?”

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I’m still experimenting with writing an 100 word story. Give it a try, it’s a fun challenge.

Stay safe and keep writing!

— Lady Jabberwocky