The snowman had been there all winter, in my neighbor’s backyard.

I was not on cordial terms with the Gomeses. Arthur Gomes and I had been colleagues, and I had to quit the job because of his political manipulations. We had moved on in different directions since, but the memories still hurt.

Spring arrived but the snowman did not melt. What was happening? Then, I received an unexpected invitation from Mrs. Gomes for tea at 4 pm. I could not contain my curiosity about the snowman and accepted.

“Alice, I know my husband had not been kind to you. But I am requesting you for help today.”

Had? An idle thought crossed my mind.

“Go on. Ask…” I replied nonchalantly, unable to decide.

“There is a dead body hidden inside that snowman, and I would like to have your help in disposing it off.”

Unexpected winds were blowing outside, and a storm appeared to be on the horizon.

“Is that Arthur?” I whispered.

She looked deep into my eyes. There was a knife in my back, and it still hurt.

It was the first spring gust, unexpected for sure, but bringing back a deep-rooted desire for revenge.

“Sure”, I said.

(200 words)


Sunday Writing Prompt at MLMM  and

Sunday Photo Fiction

20 thoughts on “Spring

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