I lingered as Ellie Henderson walked past the store window.
‘You’ve no chance there,’ my boss, said.
Ellie was a real beauty. I’d admired her from a distance as she met and married Frank Henderson. Frank had sure been the lucky one, but his luck ran out when his body turned up face down in Whitewillow Creek – a fishing accident the coroner concluded. Ellie had been in mourning for months now. Surely she would be ready to move on soon.
‘The door to that one’s heart is locked and bolted – she’ll never love again,’ my boss, continued.
What a proper sinful waste that would be. I almost regretted killing Frank now.
These words form my entry into this week’s Friday Fictioneers photo prompt challenge.