Monday, February 9, 2015

Lizzie Koch Week 138: Second Chances

Picture 1

Picture 2

Lizzie Koch’s Picture Choice: 2

Title: Second Chances

There was no one to meet me when I stepped outside. I knew there wouldn’t be. But it didn’t bother me. I walked over to the waiting bus, the taste of the air, the warmth of the sun on my skin basking me in freedom.

The bus rattled noisily along the road. I didn’t mind the smell of diesel as it fuelled my sense of freedom. I felt alive.

Stepping off the bus, I stood and watched the traffic trundle by as passersby rushed about their business. Fast food and perfume permeated my nostrils, my clothes and my skin, causing excitement to surge through me.

My feet were light as I practically skipped across the road, feeling more alive with every passing second, swearing with every breath I wouldn’t go back, would grasp this second chance with both hands, make a life for myself, become a well rounded citizen.

I stopped.

Peering down at the gutter, shivers rippled down my spine. A shadow crept over me, firing up a desire deep within. Was it really two years ago? It felt like yesterday when I caressed her supple skin, tugged her soft blonde curls, ignored her cries as she begged for me to set her free. But I carried on walking.

Peering into the drain, it was as dry as that day. The day I left her in a disused sewer, wanting to return later that night. But a storm raged. Hours of torrential rain. I remember laying in bed, listening to its relentless rapping against the window. That morning, flooding revealed my secret, her body washed up on the muddy banks of the river.

It felt like yesterday. Lust crawled over me, in me, oozing out of every pore. I needed to leave, go home, start my new life. Then I saw her. Her long, blonde hair shone like gold in the sunlight. She was young, carefree . . . perfect.

I followed her. Inhaling wisps of her perfume was like a drug. This was freedom. Too long I had waited. Too soon my last ‘project’ had ended before I was ready. I wouldn’t make that mistake again. I had all the time in the world and no one would suspect me . . . I’d done it before, got away with it too. I could do it again. And I had acquired new skills in my time away, time away for theft but educational none the less.

I was eager to put my theory into practise.


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I dream of sharing my work with the big wide world one day as a published author. Right now, I share flash fiction with a wonderful community of writers and friends. If you liked this story, then why not visit my blog at for more. Thank you. Love Lizzie x


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