Day Nine

Hurray for flash fiction! I hated the genre…it is just another example of everybody being in a hurry, of no one wanting to work too hard. Doing this marathon, I have learned to appreciate it. There are some stories that are short - more than anecdotes, but less than short stories. So tonight, flash fiction. Perhaps the topic will resonate.

OUT OF ORDER

The body was disturbing. Bruises covered the corpse, and broken bones bent grotesquely in ways human limbs aren’t supposed to bend. She was lying in her own blood, rapidly cooling on the carpet where she fell. No one had seen what happened, but a number of people heard. One neighbor took action, and called the cops. There was already a call in; the dispatcher was talking to the victim as her door was kicked in by a man who no longer had a key.

The cop pulled a sheet over her; the naked, shredded flesh was making him retch. He shooed out some curious bystanders and knelt by the body. Both fists were clutched tight; did she die fighting? He grimaced as he pried open her fists. In her right hand she held her phone, the dispatcher still on the line, horrified by the sounds she heard. In her left hand, she held a restraining order, preventing her ex-husband from getting within sixty feet of her.

The poorly restrained ex cowered in the corner, his brutality drained from him as cops burst in seconds before his victim breathed her last breathe. As was frequently the case, they came too late. “If only…” the cop thought. If only what? If only there was a way to stop them before they killed.