The Skeleton in the closet (Flash fiction)

The skeleton in my closet was a big one. Huge even. In fact I don’t know how he even fit in my closet, he was so rotund that every time I tried to close the door, I could hear the scraping of his bones against the wood.

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I just knew that no product existed on the face of the planet that was strong enough to get the stench out of the carpet. Or the stains for that matter.

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Let’s just go right ahead and say that I didn’t plan on using that closet for any other purpose ever again. Although honestly, how many dead guys can a girl expect to stuff in her closet in one lifetime?

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Vic, had been my old boss. One of many I suppose. And over the years he’d rubbed me in all the wrong ways.

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Literally.

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He had sticky fingers. Always on the hem of my skirts, or sketchily grasping my shoulders in an odd sort of pat on the back that was far to friendly. Clearly, I hadn’t appreciated it.

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The other managers were never so awkward toward me, and a few of them I considered to be personal friends. But they’d come and gone for one reason or another and in ten years of service, the only constants in our office were me and Vic.

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If the pay hadn’t been so good, and the prospect of finding another job so daunting, I might have left, but there just isn’t a lot of call for corporate assassins these days. Though considering our business, Vic should have known better. Then again he wasn’t the sharpest blade in the place.

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Last week, he’d finally made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. Clearing everyone else out of the office without my noticing had been impressive on his part, but it gave me an advantage too. No witnesses.

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One more brush with his sticky fingers and soon his sticky insides were dripping out over our cream carpets.

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Years of excellent customer service had taught me how to make his last moments as memorable and well, as painful as possible but soon he was dead and I had a mess to clean up. Nothing that good ever lasts forever right?

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A bottle of ammonia and club soda later and well, most of the mess was gone. Though the largest piece was currently rolled up in some plastic sheeting that I’d nicked from the supply closet. It served the same purpose now as it did in the field and I have to say, it was awfully nice of Vic to piss me off in the office. Everything I needed was right here.

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It took some maneuvering but I eventually rolled him and his plastic cocoon onto some rolling office chairs that I’d hastily duct taped together. And off we went. Down the elevator, into the parking garage and off to my car.

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Returning the chairs, and setting the office back to normal, dawn was unfortunately on the horizon when I finally got home. Tapping my fingers on my steering wheel I decided that I didn’t really want my car to stink so, into the hall closet he went.

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Sadly the plastic didn’t stay on so well and he’d leaked around it during the night.

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I’d spent most of the day considering where his final resting place might be and biding my time till dark.

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Coffee in hand, I powered up my laptop and searched for something to cover up the stench of my closet.

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Ten minutes later I had the name of a near by shelter and had called ahead for my pick up in the morning.

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Glancing out at the setting sun, I gulped down the last few drops of coffee and opened the closet, his stiff legs creaking at the lack of support. Gazing down thoughtfully, I nodded to myself. Yes, a cat box should do the trick.

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Well, here’s today’s bit of flash fiction. I hope you all enjoyed it. I just giggled my way through it and thoroughly enjoyed writing it. So. Yep. Happy October 2nd and happy scribbling.

Oh also, I forgot to mention that this was once again a prompt from Writer’s Digest.

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