So, you say you have an MBA?

Winter Cover
by Christine J. Whitlock ©2020

During the first week of February, the air was frosty but inside, the office was steamy. Paunchy with a dirty ripped shirt, Eric Edwards bent over the reception desk. His belly sat on the edge of the desk as he leaned over and leered into Brittany's low-cut top. Brittany was dark-roots, blonde-haired trash who filed her chipped, nail polished nails. She propped 'her girls' to give Eric an eyeful.

The reception clock stated 5:05 p.m. Brittany sneered in overzealous contempt as the office staff snickered, coughed and made rude under-their-breath comments whenever they passed the two obvious lust-birds. 'Get a room! Disgusting! Perverts! No class!'

Office Controller, Jake Williams, coughed to interrupt the entwined two. "Eric, is your wife, Ann, coming in tomorrow? I need her to sign some cheques."

Eric winked at Brittany and turned to Jake. "Yeah, the President of the company should be here tomorrow after her international conference."

He moved his girth back slowly to Brittany's gum-popping for more eye-sex.

The clock ticked 5:15 p.m. and Eric and Brittany were at last alone. Brittany grabbed Eric's shirt collar and whispered breathlessly in his ear. "I'm not wearing any panties."

Wide-eyed, Eric snatched her and pushed her into the President's office and kicked the door to close but it stayed open a crack. Eric pushed Brittany on her back on the pristine desk. She giggled and cooed. With a lustful grin, Eric undid his belt buckle with a clunk and pulled his zipper down with its scraping metallic resistance.

The office door flew open and statuesque Ann Edwards, the President, barreled in with two burly guys behind her. Ann gripped Eric's arm and twirled him around. "I think we've all seen enough. Boys, you know what to do next."

The next month, at the end of February, the winter wind howled its lament. The moon's rays twinkled on the newly fallen snow. A line of mature fir trees blocked the view to the service road at an industrial mall's parking lot. At the base of the burlap and twine wrap of a bulky evergreen, a woman's rhinestone-studded black high-heeled shoe lay half buried in the snow.

At the end of March, police cars and vans encircled the evergreen trees covered with burlap against the winter cold along the entrance of an industrial park. With the spring sun getting stronger and warmer, the snow was quickly disappearing. A number of officers encircled one tree that had a woman's leg exposed. The leg had been ravaged by animals.

More police cars parked in front of 'Lundy's Landscaping' across from the trees. Coming out the front door, a police woman escorted handcuffed Ann Edwards to the back seat of an open police vehicle.

Before getting in, Ann turned to the two burly men, also in handcuffs, being escorted to a van. "Guys, I thought you were going to dispose of them far away!"

One fellow smirked and jerked his head to the other. "Sorry, Mrs. Edwards. But Ma was making our favorite lasagna supper that night and we were both hungry."

The police officers rolled their eyes and shook their heads as they got into their respective vehicles and drove away.

The police van driver veered around some parked vehicles and the tires passed over a metal grate. The tires blasted away the snow covering the road storm grate to expose a leather glove underneath clutching a metal strut of the grate. The vibration wobbled the glove loose and the finger bones within dropped into the sewer below. But then, that's another gruesome story.

x x x

Brief and brutal this flash fiction piece caught my attention. Its terse roughness is a perfect fit for a frosty February. Think so? Think not? To the BBS with you! - GM

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