**Hello and sorry everyone! I just missed out on days I, J, K and L… I haven’t given up completely however, so I shall just continue with day M today.**
She didn’t know what to do. She should be running. The man with the silver slipper was here.
She stood lined up in a row, squished between all the other girls who were trying to catch the man’s eye. She didn’t even think that he was particularly good-looking, but he was handsome enough to attract attention. The girls had all donned their shoes in one corner, hoping against all hopes that the slipper would fit them. She herself hoped it didn’t fit her. She knew there was no way that it would suddenly be too tight or too loose, but she couldn’t have him find her.
She could still see his hate-filled eyes glaring up suddenly, the gun in his hand and the corpse lying in between them. She had turned and run, but lost her slipper. He must have followed her to the club, but she had lost him in the crowd. And now he was here, with the slipper, and there was no way she could slip away.
And suddenly he was there in front of her. His eyes narrowed and he seemed to know before placing the slipper on her foot that she was the girl who had watched him kill his wife.
Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers, 04-12-2016
Photo prompt provided by BarbCT/Knotholes and Textures