It might have been nearly 10 years but she had recognised him instantly. That sly little smirk, those narrow, evil eyes - there were a few wrinkles, a few grey hairs, but it was him.
He'd mugged her in broad daylight and left her trapped in her home for a year, afraid to go out, unable to sleep, terrified of every sound.
And now here he was, in her shop, drinking her wine.
'This is a crisp, dry white wine from California,' she smiled, handing him the last glass on the tray. 'Gargle properly to get all the flavours. And spit - or not!' She winked at him.
He chose not to spit, just as she hoped. He might never know but revenge really was a piece of piss.
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GREEN STORIES: ‘Fruits of Labour’ by Holly Schofield
This piece is part of our Green Stories series, showcasing the winners of Green Stories ' first flash fiction competition in which wri...
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She sat on her sofa and listened patiently right up to the point when her Dad asked her to come home. She ended the call. To go home would b...
So many details in a few sentences, carries it further.
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