Added£1.29Add to basket(A short story of 2194 words)
Simon's Body
Crime and Thrillers
by Alyson Morris
Did Jo really kill Simon?
Jo looked down at Simon’s body, which lay naked and splayed against their bedroom rug. Kneeling, she ran her hands over his cold, coarse skin. It had always been coarse; that brownish hair, thick upon his arms and legs, felt rough in contrast to the fine shape of his torso. Hmmm, that body, she thought, Simon had a beautiful body, even in death.
Jo had met Simon at a gym. Thinking that a fitness centre might help her meet ordinary men, she had savoured the time she spent on the running machine looking out for a man who wasn’t another lovey. Now, as rain dripped loudly down the windowsill making her aware of her own dry cheeks, Jo bent down and kissed him. She then attempted to rub off the lip-glossed stain, leaving a heart-shaped smudge on his cheekbone. That gym was where it had all started, and now it was the end.
Moving to the window and with toes sinking into the high weave of their cream rug, Jo contemplated removing the blood. Was it like wine? White wine is supposed to remove a red stain. Perhaps salt would be better, or maybe vinegar?
The view from the back of the house was long, green and deep. A remote place they had both worked hard for. Simon even harder she felt, especially during those months before buying the land. ‘A lucky break,’ he had claimed, adding something about a property sale and some bonus money. A large sum came their way and she had never asked questions, despite a need to...
Jo looked down at Simon’s body, which lay naked and splayed against their bedroom rug. Kneeling, she ran her hands over his cold, coarse skin. It had always been coarse; that brownish hair, thick upon his arms and legs, felt rough in contrast to the fine shape of his torso. Hmmm, that body, she thought, Simon had a beautiful body, even in death.
Jo had met Simon at a gym. Thinking that a fitness centre might help her meet ordinary men, she had savoured the time she spent on the running machine looking out for a man who wasn’t another lovey. Now, as rain dripped loudly down the windowsill making her aware of her own dry cheeks, Jo bent down and kissed him. She then attempted to rub off the lip-glossed stain, leaving a heart-shaped smudge on his cheekbone. That gym was where it had all started, and now it was the end.
Moving to the window and with toes sinking into the high weave of their cream rug, Jo contemplated removing the blood. Was it like wine? White wine is supposed to remove a red stain. Perhaps salt would be better, or maybe vinegar?
The view from the back of the house was long, green and deep. A remote place they had both worked hard for. Simon even harder she felt, especially during those months before buying the land. ‘A lucky break,’ he had claimed, adding something about a property sale and some bonus money. A large sum came their way and she had never asked questions, despite a need to...