Create a written piece using one or more of the following prompts:
She could fly! | 10 minutes later he bought the largest suitcase he could find \ Rock solid conviction
Here’ my take on it…
She could fly! He was sure of it. And so, based upon this rock solid conviction, he launched her over the edge of the balcony. For a brief moment, it appeared she would indeed fly, that terrible moment when she seemed to hang suspended in the air. Their eyes met, terror and disbelief bulging hers to insect proportions. Then gravity kicked in and she plummeted to the pavement four stories below.
Of course he would plead insanity, if anyone ever caught him. He had carefully laid the groundwork for such a plea over the last several months. He had filled notebooks full of nonsensical, pseudo-scientific babble about human flight and unleashing the hidden power of the mind. He’d even published one such paper online. Everyone said he was crazy.
He had intended to sit quietly at the desk, revising his notes. He wanted to appear calm and unsuspecting when the police arrived. But he was restless and unsure his plan would work. He argued with himself for a moment.
“Stick to the plan. It’s a good plan. It will work!” said one part of his brain.
“You’ve got to run. You’ve got to get out of here!” said another, perhaps more reasonable part of his psyche.
Ten minutes later, he bought the largest suitcase he could find at Wally’s World. He’d go back to the apartment and stuff it with as much as he could fit and take off.
By the time he returned, there was already a crowd gathering at the complex. This new plan was flawed, he now saw—he’d never get back to the room without being seen. Sitting in the car, he watched the activity.
An ambulance arrived and the paramedics leaped from the vehicle and rushed through the crowd as police officers urged people to back up and let them through. For a moment, he panicked. Why an ambulance? Could she be alive? Was it even possible? But then he thought that it wasn’t unusual for an ambulance to be called to such a scene. No, she was dead. She had to be!
As he mused, a neighbor at the back of the crowd spotted him. Grabbing a police officer, she pointed to him. He noticed. “Stay calm,” he thought, rolling down his window as the officer approached.
“Are you Mr. Schlimmer? Alfred Schlimmer of 18101 Crowely Street, Apartment 401C?” the officer asked.
“Yes, sir. What’s going on?” he asked. It occurred to him that he might bluff his way out of this yet. “Is someone hurt?”
“Sir, there’s been an accident. I need you to shut off the motor and step out of the car, please.”
“What’s this got to do with me?”
“If you would just shut off the engine and step out of the car, sir. I’m sure we’ll clear everything up.” The officer looked past him to the large suitcase on the back seat. “Are you going somewhere, Mr. Schlimmer?
“Oh, that? That’s just an old suitcase I was going to take to Goodwill. I’ve been toting it around for ages, I just keep forgetting to drop it off.” He lied smoothly. He like the sound of it, it came across so matter-of-factually.
Suddenly, the officer unholstered his gun and leveled it at the window of the car. “Mr. Schlimmer, step out of your vehicle now. Open the door slowly. Step out and place your hands on the hood.”
“But I don’t understand? What’s going on? What did I do?” he was beginning to panic now. Other officers, noticing the kerfuffle, swarmed to join them.
“This is the last time I’m telling you this… Get out of the vehicle. Now!”
“But, but, I…” he stammered. The officer ripped the car door open and dragged him from his seat and threw him against the car, kicked his legs apart and pressed his face against the still hot hood. First one arm was bent behind his back, then the other, as the cold steel of handcuffs encircled his wrists. “I don’t understand? What’d I do?”
“You are under the rest for suspicion of murder. You have the right to remain silent. Everything you say…” the officer droned on, but he was no longer listening. What had gone wrong? How did they know? This couldn’t be happening!
“What’s up?” a newly arrived officer asked.
“This is the husband of the victim,” was the reply. “He just told me that the large suitcase in the backseat there was some old thing he was supposed to have given to Goodwill. It’s still got the tags from the store on it. I think he’s lying and that he had plans of running away somewhere.”
The words echoed in his ears as they walked him to a squad car and tucked him away in the back seat.
“But she could fly!” he sobbed. “I know she could!” In his mind he thought, better go for insanity. He blubbered all the way to the police station, too stupid to realize it was over.