Tuesday 2 December 2014

Day 2 A Reluctant Witness by Tracy Davidson



Our second extract from out latest anthology: 
A Reluctant Witness
Tracy Davidson
Dead men tell no tales. Well, the one lying on the floor by the counter certainly won’t be telling any.
I hardly dare breathe for fear the perpetrator will hear me. Having killed the shopkeeper, now he’s busy pistol-whipping the shopkeeper’s wife, trying to make her tell him the combination to the safe.
    There's absolutely nothing I can do to help her. Crouched down behind the fruit and veg, I'm too far away to tackle him. Anyway, he's twice my size. And armed.
 There's no way I can get to the front door either without him noticing. He must have thought the shop was empty at this time of night, having locked the door when he came in.
This guy won't want to leave any witnesses alive. The wife is dead even if she does give up
the combination. So will I be if he catches sight of me.
 Of all the rotten times for my mobile phone to be out of juice. I was going to top it up
when I paid for my shopping. All I can hope for is that one or other of the owners managed to
hit an alarm button before the attack started. Or that a passerby looks in and notices something wrong.
 The wife finally stops her pitiful crying. I risk a quick peep over a box of oranges. It's all I can do not to scream out in horror at what is left of the poor woman. This guy definitely has anger issues. I blink tears away as I slowly slink back to the floor, trying to make myself as small and inconspicuous as possible.
 The killer is breathing heavily now, and he's still angry. I hear him kicking things over and cursing. I pray he doesn't come back here for any reason. However much money he got out of the cash register, it's clearly not enough to satisfy him. It certainly can't be worth two lives.
I can hear sirens now, in the distance. The killer must hear them too, as he's stopped his rampage. I risk another peep. I shouldn't have done. He happens to be looking in my direction and senses my slight movement. His eyes glare straight into mine. 


About the author:
Tracy Davidson lives in Warwickshire, England, and enjoys writing poetry and flash fiction. Her work has appeared in various publications and anthologies, including: Mslexia, Atlas Poetica, Writing Magazine, Modern Haiku, The Right-Eyed Deer, A Hundred Gourds and Roundyhouse. Apart from writing, Tracy enjoys reading crime novels, photography, entering competitions, and travel.   
 

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