Friday, 20 December 2013

Best Served Cold
Snowman on Lake. Photo by Petritap

Best Served Cold

The savage sunshine drives shards of snow sharpened daylight past my squinting eyelids.
I hate this place.
“You’re sure we found our missing suspect?” I ask.
“Sheriff, we was at school together.”
“How long’s he been Frosty?”
“M.E. can’t guess, ‘till we pull the body out. Someone sure packed him in hard though. Snow’s been here six weeks. More last night, covered the tracks, old and new alike.”
He kicked at a sparkling ridge, scattering it in powdery ruin.
“Sheriff? This the same spot the little girl’s body...?”
“...near as makes no difference.” Tears, blown frozen on my reddening cheeks owe more to past failures than present cruelty of the elements. “Wait until CSI finish. Then let the M.E have him.”
I trudge back to my cruiser.
‘To Serve and Protect’
One out of two is not an average I’m proud of.
The ragged snowman’s windblown wooden limbs wave a frozen benediction over the silent crime scene.

157 words

This story was written for Rebekah Postupak's Flash Friday Contest Vol 2-2

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