THE BUTTERFLY MAN - ALUN WILLIAMS
“Nice tattoo.”
The girl sat down uninvited.
“Where’d ya get it?”
Markkus looked up. She pointed to his arm.
“In Bregenz.” His accent was clipped. “It’s in Austria by the German border. I‘m here on vacation. Arrived this morning.”
She smiled.
“You know who you sound like?”
Markkus chuckled.
“I’ll be back,” he replied.
“Oh my God. You sound exactly like him.”
“You’re the first person to tell me that.”
She nodded.
“Yeah, sorry. I like tattoos, though.”
She ran a finger over his arm.
“A cardinal butterfly. Pandoriana Pandora. You like butterflies?”
“I guess.”
“Amazing creatures.” Markkus pulled up his other sleeve.
“That’s a Julia.”
“No kidding, that’s my mother’s name. I love tattoos.”
“Have you any?”
“Sure. But not here. Wanna come back to my place?”
“I don’t know. Is it far?”
“No. C’mon, butterfly man. I like you.”
*
In a wood outside of Vienna, Inspector Weiss of the Austrian National Police watched as two uniforms walked towards him carrying a bodybag.
“Her body has the same hallmarks,” one said.
Weiss stopped them and unzipped the bag.. A small piece of skin had been cut from her arm. It was in the shape of a butterfly.
BIO: Alun Williams, 55. Born and still residing in Wales. Member of Crittersbar (writing under maxieslim), Zoetrope and Scrawl (writing as Maxwell Allen) and has had several shorts published in Write Side Up, Bonfire, Twisted Tongue, Skive, The Legendary and various others. Loves noir and Charles Bukowski.
Posts
The Travelling Grave
19 hours ago
3 comments:
Good stuff. The start of a things to come, maybe.
Begins and flows along very smoothly, then hits you like a brick. Love it!
How did a nice girl like you ever learn to write down and dirty like this? Lookin' good Cinday!
Anonymous-9
Post a Comment