Mondays Are Murder Archives - Page 8 of 44

“The Sparrow” by Kristen Petry

The sparrow literally dropped through the flue into Helen’s cold fire place at just barely daylight. At first, she thought she imagined it.

Blades reached her just as the light at State and Washington turned green . . .

“Keep Portland Weird.” I see it on signs all over town, but what does it even mean?

Ah, those eyes. You look into them, and you still see the fire, at least for a little while . . .

Flood Street. I wound up there after a long period of debauchery, or so I’m told . . .

Bashir had witnessed his share of riddled bodies since the Americans had invaded, but this was the first from his own hand . . .

I pass Elaine the banana bread. Oh, I’m sure she’s had a trying week, I tell her, clucking in sympathy, listening like the good friend I am . . .

Had I actually just dropped Leland? The red-winged blackbirds seemed to think so. . .