Hello Dear Readers! It’s time for the Trifecta Writing Challenge. This weeks prompt is the word:
1: having good luck
2: happening by chance : fortuitous
3: producing or resulting in good by chance : favorable
Vera’s Charlie Problem
Vera Hinckle pardoned herself profusely, as she squeezed past knees and purses, finally finding her seat just as the lights were dimming.
Vera was in high spirits. Tonight’s production was called “The Tree” and it was a murder mystery written by a local, up and coming playwright, and everyone was raving about it.
When the stage lights came on, they revealed a kitchen with pink appliances, just like the ones Vera had in her own kitchen — and a window above the sink that looked out onto a tree, a white birch, just like Vera’s– painted, of course — but how utterly uncanny!
Vera was so astonished, she almost leaned over to the person sitting next to her to remark on it, but something stopped her. Maybe it was the knot that was beginning to form in her stomach.
A portly man crossed the stage and opened the door of the pink refrigerator. From off stage came a voice that Vera thought sounded remarkably like her own. A lucky coincidence?
“Benjamin! Don’t tell me you’re eating again! They’ll have to bury you in a piano crate! Mark my words!”
Vera’s blood ran cold. These were the exact words Vera often used to chastise her late husband. But her husband’s name wasn’t Benjamin. Vera relaxed a little. It was Charlie. But still.
Vera looked around the theater to see if anyone was looking at her. How could anybody know that about her and Charlie? It was merely a coincidence, surely, Vera reasoned.
Then a woman entered the stage, and Vera stifled a gasp. She was small and thin like Vera, and her hair was fixed in Vera’s bird-nest bun!
Vera had to get out! She stumbled her way to the aisle and hurried out of the theater, nearly breaking into a run.
When Vera got home she ran to the shed and got the ax. She had to chop down the tree she buried Charlie under — before someone put two and two together.
Until next time . . . I love you