“Eww, is that a dead body?” Anita recoiled from her dive across the limo’s cushions. She glanced at the other passengers, the “would-be murderers” who gazed with innocence pasted on haggard faces.
The party had been a blast, but now it was time to crash. Home? Boyfriend’s? She couldn’t stomach waitressing, serving any more of the thick, syrupy concoctions bubbling up from behind the make-shift bar.
And now, there was a dead body.
Little did she know her fellow passengers had committed their own crime. They were innocent of the limo murder, but not that of her boyfriend, who was no longer sleeping off drinks at a downtown bar.
Copyright © 2016 by Emily Clayton
Originally appeared on Microcosms: