Soil | A 100 Word Story

#191 Seven of Quills

The trouble with telling a lie is remembering it the same way every time.

“When was the last time you spoke with Terry?” A rather nice police officer making the rounds after my neighbor has been missing for three days.

“A week ago, maybe? She was in her front yard working on her flowerbeds, I think…”

Not true. I couldn’t possibly have seen her last week. At least not in her front yard. It was last week that I invited her for coffee. Nosey woman couldn’t resist a chance to see inside my house.

She’s inspecting my garden soil now.