“Her name was Kelly,” a deep, booming voice told us. “Kelly Veronica Krause.” I looked around and saw what turned out to be Alvin Krause who Cynthia had left on the patio to take a breather. “She worked for a bank, had plenty of friends and was trying to give up smoking. We were…were trying for a…baby.” Alvin forced his eyes away from his wife’s body until the last word, at which point he broke down into hysterical sobbing once more.
Thought I’d share this, just for the hell of it.
Aspiring Writer from Liverpool, living in London, currently working on my first Novel 'Hypnotic'.
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