Writing Prompt

It was a rather ordinary afternoon in Croydon when Nigel’s world turned rather upside down. In his cosy flat, while sampling a particularly robust red wine, his clumsy elbow betrayed him – the precious vintage cascaded over his antique Persian rug, staining it with a blotchy, irreversible red that seemed to mock him with every uneven patch. Desperate to erase the unsightly blot and restore his dig...

Living in a small town doesn’t make it easy to hide things. Thankfully, most people in this town are equally odd. I walked up to the register with a new gallon of liquid bleach and as cashiers do, Kathy made conversation in her thick Jersey accent.

“I swear you never see people buy a gallon around here you know? It’s always two or three ‘cause we’ve always got visitors. If you’re gonna save any p...

A gallon of bleach,

of bleach or kerosene,

(Autocorrect)

the world is spinning again

here I am sinning again

here I am dimming again

here I am dying again

here I am lying again

by bleach I can’t end this sin

by flame I can’t name my end,

by light I started again,

by fear I hope I may mend,

when the shame and defeat

are all that I may feel,

when t...

I honked at the car in front of me. God, why were they driving so slowly? It seemed as if the world was trying to piss me off. Finally, after what felt like forever, I pulled into the parking lot of the almost abandoned gas station. There was a gas station just 2 minutes away from me, but no, way too many cameras. Which is why I had to drive 10 miles away, inconvenient, but I could make it wo...

Oliver Lawrence wasn't an impulsive person. His decisions were rarely made without back-and-forth debate. His decisions were rarely made by himself, period. He was both blessed and cursed with being a brain-over-heart thinker. Sure, it took a couple hundred years to decide whether or not to do something, but he hardly regretted his choices.

Oliver Lawrence wasn't an impulsive person.

So why...

Going need bleach

The blood spatter isn’t going away

This is not a wushyvwashy advert for some shitty cleaning product

The csi guys got dna shit

Needs cleaning no trace of dna no blood no iron

No cause of death

It’s just a cleaning job...

Got to clean

Clean clean clean

Hat do you mean

It’s not dirty!

Buy the bleach

To clean clean clean

Clean!...

Sometimes, when one sees horrific things,

It can become too much.

Which is why, today, I’m washing it out.

But there’s a problem.

They’re all sold out.

And my social skills are not so good.

I guess I’m stuck with these things I have seen,

And the things I will see....

I stared down into the porcelain tub, dotted with vermillion shapes: circles, squares, triangles; even an octagon I tried hard to sketch into the base. The contrast of the white and the red was striking. At least, I hoped so.

My clients stood, one at each side, looking down with me. One, an older man with a neatly-trimmed beard, sniffled and wiped his nose. The other, a young woman with a vegan ...

The clerk didn’t ask questions just gave a tired nod as David slammed the jug of bleach on the counter. His hands were still trembling.

“Long night?” the clerk mumbled.

David forced a smile. “Laundry.”

His hoodie was zipped up to hide the specks. Blood looked black under gas station lights.

He paid in cash. No card. No camera over the register he’d checked. Twice.

Back in the car, the smell hit hi...