A weekend in the Country
The Rhododendrons seemed to follow Caroline from the Scottish Borders all the way to the log cabin in the Ochil Hills. Rows of ornate pink flowers embellished the forests, clad in spring foliage, their shoots striving hungrily towards the blue azure sky.
But although Caroline sometimes caught sight of the flashes of colour, she gripped the steering wheel and kept her eyes on the road.
The sun was low in the Friday sky as her car swallowed the last few miles to the cabin and came to rest on the narrow pebbled drive. She locked the car door and went to the entrance.
As she approached, she saw Robert on bended knee, a big smile and a glittering diamond ring in his outstretched hand. All around him, the fallen pink petals of the Rhododendron trees spread out like a fairy tale carpet.
Looking around to make sure they were unseen, she deftly screwed the silencer on the revolver and shot him once between his astonished eyes.
Now she had all weekend to dispose of the body and head back to town.
Bill was taking her out to lunch.
She had another private retreat elsewhere planned for next weekend.
Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers is a weekly challenge curated by the wonderful Priceless Joy. Thank you!