*Furiously Scribbles*

#1

SO YEAH

Welcome to *Furiously Scribbles*! I hope you enjoy my take on them. Some are okay, others I could have done better with, but whatever. Some I changed a bit (fight me) (not actually tho i'm like 5'0" so plz don't), but I hope you enjoy!

Prompt #1: Write from the point of view of someone who committed a murder today. Do not mention the murder.

here's my *probably* shitty take.

I stashed my equipment away in the safe downstairs and closed the door, the automatic system locking it behind me. Sighing, I trudged upstairs to my kitchen. The phone rang, but I didn't answer it. I knew from whom it would be, and I knew the reason for their call. But I didn't want to talk to them at the moment, especially about that.

I pulled my fridge open and rummaged around in the back for the scotch I kept back there for special occasions. This was an occasion, and it was special in the sense that it was like no other. I opened the bottle, grabbed a short glass from an adjacent cabinet, and poured a rather generous amount. The phone stopped ringing.

I put the scotch back in the fridge, sat down at my kitchen table, and, for the third time that day, rubbed my eyes and sighed. I lazily swirled the glass, absently watching the scotch settle.

The phone rang again, but I didn't move, letting it go to voicemail.

I did move, however, when the caller left a message. I frowned. They never left a message. I winced at their tone, berating me for ignoring their first call.

If I wasn't the best, I would have been out of a job long ago. But as it was, I was still paying the bills.

I suppose my skill allowed me to do little things like ignore their first call.

The voicemail stopped as they hung up, and the phone was blessedly silent for all of thirty seconds before it starting ringing again. I sighed- the fourth time today- , took a gulp of scotch, and stumbled to the phone. Bracing myself, I picked it up.

"Hello?" I answered tentatively, awaiting the tirade. It came, and I weathered the storm of angry ranting, complete with exclamations and expletives in Russian. Finally, they calmed down.

"Good job today," they said, and I nodded.

"Same thing tomorrow?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes," they said.

The line clicked and went dead.

-Fin-

So yeah. How was that? Comments, questions, suggestions? Your take?

Reviews are my writing lifeblood!

~Onyx