Writing Group 64: Oakwood (Part 5)

June was standing there.
“Someone’s jumpy tonight.” She said in a sing song voice. “I presume Mr Plod at the entrance told you all about the discovery, fascinating, isn’t it?” Her choice of words and tone of voice made it sound like some interesting antique had been discovered, not a dead human being.

Robyn nodded and bent down to pick up her keys for a second time.
“But you know what is really interesting,” June carried on, “The body was found in exactly the same position as the one yesterday. Sitting up. Some might call it coincidental. I on the other hand…” She did not finish her sentence, just left it to trail of dramatically.
Robyn had the funny feeling that theses incidents were the most exciting thing about June’s life.
After shaking June off, Robyn walked round to her apartment, going the long way, as to avoid the scaffolding and builders and possible sighting of more dead bodies. As she arrived at her front door she stopped. She was frightened to enter. Was there a murderer lurking behind the door, an undiscovered body in a cupboard? She looked across the car park and was relieved to see a police car parked there and its owner standing guard. Promising herself that at any hint of anything strange in her apartment she would throw herself at the police officer, she unlocked her door.
Nothing. She carefully went round the rooms, checking the locks on the windows, closing the curtains. As she passed her front door again, she realised she had forgotten to check her post and thought better to collect it just in case. Glancing out to check the comforting yellow and white of the police car, she stepped out into the foyer and opened her letter box. She grabbed the letters and rushed quickly back in side.
After locking her door and sitting down on the matrass, she looked at the letters. One from the bank, one from insurance and sandwiched between the two was a small square of material.
Robyn picked it up puzzled. It was thick, white old cotton and had the faded print of an O on one side. She rubbed it between the fingers and held it up to her noise for a sniff. With a start, she pulled it away, if she was not much mistaken, it smelt of rotting flesh.


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