Detective Stories

 

The college master lurks behind the screen;

The innocent young student is his prey.

‘My experiment!’, he cries, triumphant.

Inside a church, remorseful priests clench hands;

Dog-tired wives can stand their fate no more.

Jealousy tears the fabric of their dreams.

 

Slow-witted boys are beaten to the punch;

An old man’s lust awakens from the dead.

Ambitious workers slam their fists on desks;

‘My promotion!’, they complain. ‘That bastard’.

Ships leave the port, containing body parts;

No one will mess with the house on the hill.

 

Respectable citizens, murky pasts,

Safe for now in the hot marquee. But wait,

Silent voices of long-lost lovers call.

They bide their time before they strike. ‘More wine?’

In a trice, a corpse lies cold. ‘My revenge!’.

In the fresh air of the world, all is well.

◄ Mister Larkin

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Comments

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Stephen Gospage

Wed 5th May 2021 18:04

Thanks, Aviva. I had forgotten about the butler. And thanks to Nigel, Stephen and Holden for the likes.

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Aviva Rifka Bhandari

Tue 4th May 2021 18:27

All red herrings, it was the butler that did it.

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