Title: Monochrome Murder
By Cynthia Nnadi
It was a perfect evening for someone to die. Bertha strolled towards the University gate. Her steps were slow; calculated and reluctant. A subtle wind danced between the strands of her braids, and she felt a raindrop settle at the tip of her nose. It seemed it would rain too. In the distance, security men dished out security tags to the cars that drove in. She counted the cars, studying their plate numbers as they zoomed past her. One of the cars had the exact number of her birthday. 149. 14th of September.
‘Hmph,’ She tsked. What a coincidence.
An uneasy feeling gripped her, as an angry woman would the beltline of her husband, caught in the swindling arms of fornication.
She thought, what was the perfect way for Selah to kill her oppressive boss? At this point of the story, Selah held a gun to his head, and that was where she stopped writing last night. She had to continue tonight.
A small wind waltzed past, then the perfect idea struck. She took out a small notebook from her back pocket and scribbled with much excitement. What a perfect way to end her novel; “…smiling, she pulled the trigger.”