He sleeps loud enough to wake the dead. That’s what she thought. Space being short, she wrote: Snores. Crossing one denim-clad knee over the other, she considered going back to bed, all the same. Maybe she could dream something so wonderful it would banish the nightmare that had chased her out here to the kitchen too early on an autumn Saturday.
“Is a second murder easier to commit than the first?” Dr. Fiscus strolled across the front of the classroom, stroking his chest as if smoothing an invisible tie.
No one spoke up. The early spring sun poured through the rain-blotched windows, and it was an effort to keep one’s head up, let alone think. Brian held absolutely still, afraid to be singled out.
I’ve been published previously, both short stories and novels, primarily in the genre of mystery. (Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine, Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine, St. Martin’s Press, and my current publisher, Deadly Alibi Press.)