My encounter with serial killer David Hastings went unnoticed by all around us. In the crowd, I pressed close, wiped my bloody DNA-laced hand across his sleeve, and slipped Kelly Mason’s silver bracelet into his pocket. Then I strolled to the corner phone box and dialled the anonymous police line.
Sandra James writes from a rural property in Heathcote Victoria, Australia. Her second collection of short fiction, Black Rain and other stories, is available now.
In a word – wow
Thank you Peggy 😊
Nicely done Sandra.
I hope to never bump into you amongst a busy crowd. 😉
Thanks Paul.
I promise to be on my best behaviour if you do 🤣
I enjoyed this! Fun to imagine where it goes from there! 🙂
Thanks Lisa :)
Love it, great story