A fun little Sunday read for you. I’m thinking of starting a once-a-month Lazy Sunday read series with flash fiction. Just for the sake of writing something different.
A great crime writer had once shared tips for the perfect murder at a conference. All Camille had done was tweak a few details. There were no coastal walks in her area, so she had to improvise with glaciers. He was too vain to use hardcore winter gear, not vain enough to never go out on winter walks. She had carefully drained the batteries of both his mobile phones. He never checked. No hardship disabling the avalanche tracker on his ski-jacket – he had never given her sufficient credit for a scientific mind.
It was not science she detested, only his relentless droning about it.
‘With his height and weight, you were very lucky not to get pulled in after him, Madame.’ The Salvamont rescue team told her.
Luck had nothing to do with it, but Camille nodded, gulping the hot, sweet liquid gratefully.
‘He always told me I was hopeless at knots… little did I think…’