Roses wither in murky water. The rug lies overturned where she tripped. I kneel down, check for a pulse, knowing as I touch her cold, slim wrist that it’s not there. The world has changed in the last fifty years, but death looks the same as it always has. The tech-bots sweep the room for fingerprints. I search with failing eyesight for anything abnormal and I’m rewarded with a scuff mark on the floor underneath the dining table which is shifted off-center from the chandelier above. I guess an old cop like me still has use in cases like this.
Deborah
24/6/2017 07:48:03 pm
Good job showing the tech vs human scenario in a tight, well-written very short story!
Tommy Tarkin
25/6/2017 09:58:35 am
Dragged me willingly from beginning to end. A very enjoyable, and compelling read in shockingly so few words.
Gordon Lawrie
25/6/2017 10:50:26 am
I think Tyrean's use of 'this' can be defended. She's described a single event and said that other cases might be similar. There's an implied missing word at the end: 'one'. 26/6/2017 10:54:07 pm
Great story, Tyrean! Impressed with how well you established the setting here in so few words. Especially love the line about death looking the same...
Bobby Warner
30/6/2017 06:58:51 pm
Take it from an old English major and long time writer, there is nothing wrong with the way your last line reads. "This," as used, is perfectly okay as far as I can determine. But really, who is quibbling? This is a fantastically good story! Comments are closed.
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"Classic"
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