By Susan Cornford
She sat in the laundromat, watching the dryer go around and around.
It had seemed so simple at the time. All she had to do is lure Justin to her flat, feed him the slow-acting poison and let him go out the door again.
But he’d been suspicious, grabbed a knife and come at her. It wasn’t her fault he tripped and landed on it himself.
All that blood soon soaked into everything she’d so lovingly decorated in white. Too late she’d found out that she shouldn’t have used the hot water cycle.
Susan Cornford is a retired public servant, living in Perth, Western Australia, with pieces published or forthcoming in 50-Word Stories, Akashic Books, Antipodean Science Fiction, CarpeArte Journal, Ghost Parachute, Medusa’s Laugh, Speculative 66, Subtle Fiction, Switchblade, The Fable Online, The Gambler and The Vignette Review. She considers herself an emerging flash writer.