Eeny, Meany, Miny..Murder - Flash Fiction by Louis Kasatkin
She'd
always liked nursery rhymes as far back as she could remember. Or chose to. Like
when she was growing up or even now in what her family and acquaintances
might've called her swell professional career.
Then
again, she thought to herself, perhaps they wouldn't or couldn't.
Not
that any of that peripheral stuff really mattered to her any more.
Some
things did. Like nursery rhymes. "Jack and Jill went up the hill.."
except an older playmate, who she thought of as her best friend at the time got
it into her head to be mean to her.
On
that one bright sunny morning, reciting nursery rhymes together and skipping
along kind of role playing. Jill and Jack.
And
then it somehow all just happened. She got pushed violently in the small of the
back ,tripped and fell and rolled and bumped all the way down that Hill.
Even
now she could recall the harsh, shrill mocking laughter, even as she tumbled and
tumbled.
She
caught glimpses of the other girl whom she had trusted and thought of as her
best friend.
Except
that she turned out not to be.
Years
later she had read that everyone or almost everyone has some kind of
personality quirk that can develop from early childhood. It is very often
expressed through a hobby or pastime or even an academic interest which later
on in life can be the precursor of a college degree or future career.
Her
tastes are now definitively academic, intellectual and organisational.
Her
long ago adolescence, a brief period of which was spent on a psychiatric ward
,on the Judge's recommendation strengthened and honed those qualities needed to
put her top of her profession in the here and now.
And
her fortuitous, providential it seemed to her, switch of i.d.s less than 6 months
after her parole from the Institution, sealed her future.
So, yeah
her little idiosyncrasies and brilliant social ice breaking recitations of
nursery rhymes marked out just how far she had come.
A
long way it seemed to her from her brilliant, antisocial breaking of both her
once best friend's legs, arms and face after they had gone up that hill years
later for a second time.
Adrift
in this daydream, the incessant buzzing of her phone slowly hauled back into the
shores of the present day here and now.
"Yep, Inspector
Garcia! your office? right away!"
As
she set off down the long corridor to her bosses office, she proudly glanced
back at the door of her own.
"Inspector
Lucy Garcia, Homicide Division".
And
just before knocking on her bosses door, she caught herself reciting soto voce
"eeny meany, miny.."
A
quick glance at her reflection in the window, run fingers through her dark brown
close cropped curls, and knock..
"Come
in Garcia, have I got a case for you!"
Perfect
she thought and the Sun hasn't even begun to shine yet.
Louis Kasatkin is founder of Destiny Poets in the UK and Editorial Administrator at www.destinypoets.co.uk. For more than 20 years a Poet and Poetry promoter,Louis has been Poet-in-Residence at Wakefield Cathedral and workshop leader in schools and the wider local community.
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