• Dawn Hosmer

Flash Fiction: Witness

Flash Fiction from Round 1!

He fancied himself lucky. Most lived life without purpose. That one thing that yanked them awake. Ed Wilcox always had it. Knew his calling from an early age, though it wasn’t the type of life pursuit you shared with others. After all, his purpose came at the end of a seven-inch blade and precluded leaving any witnesses.



‘Your wife was murdered.

I take the witness stand and look across the courtroom. I see your steely blue eyes stare straight through me.

I look away, my hands tremble, the tears well and my voice shakes.

But you jilted me.

So I framed you.

You deserve all you get.

I deserve an Oscar.’



He came to me, a loaner on the run;

I tried to warn him, but there was nothing to be done.

With no one looking for him, I took what I yearned for;

In the morning, my body would be sore.

All done without a sound, without a witness;

Without a mess.



The soul of empathy, he ventured forth into the world, never expecting to be so ravaged by what he witnessed there. He could not countenance the cruelty of his fellow man, so retreated behind walls, thick and high, and lived a solitary life forever.



There was no #witness

But I saw you

There was no sound

But I felt you

There was no evidence

But I traced you

There was no conviction

But I won't fade

There was no body

But I was hidden

There will be no freedom

Because im bound to you

I paid with my life

So will you.



Her eyes are hot with hatred as I sit on the #witness stand, explaining how she killed her husband.

A week later, she's convicted.

"No! She did it!" My twin points at me.

"Mentally disturbed," the prosecutor mutters. Even her defense lawyers shake their heads sadly.

I stifle a smile.



While walking down my lane I saw a shadow in the meadow. It was a deer and her fawn, and I was a witness to a loving encounter. They touched nose to nose and then cheek to cheek before bounding off gracefully through the tall grasses. True magic.



"Oh Jim, this is so romantic," said Scarlet, as he parked mountainside.

"Do you remember me?"

"You're Jim. From Arby's."

He removed his fake beard. "I'm Allen from Nebraska. 1997. You stood me up."

A bolt of terror shot through Scarlet's heart.

"You're the only #witness to your death now."



I exhale a breath of relief. I’ve only just processed what has happened. The roller coaster of emotions comes to a halt after the most riveting, jaw-dropping, tremendous piece of skill. A bicycle kick; true beauty. What have I just witnessed! “Wayne Rooney, OUT OF THIS WORLD!!!”


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