[The Flash-Fic Appears] Chicken Mushroom Soup

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"My memory is not as good as it used to be, but I'm sure it was the winter of 1991, because back then landlines were still relevant and we had a wall phone in the kitchen of our cabin.


I was wakened by the ringing of the phone. At first, I ignored it thinking my husband, Clarence, would answer it, but the damn thing just kept on ringing.

I opened my eyes, but shut them immediately. The lights felt like needles and I had a hangover worse than the ones from my college years. It must have been the wild mushrooms I mixed into the soup.

I stood up from the armchair, but my knees collapsed and I fell over into the coffee table face first. The throbbing was awful, but not as awful as seeing that bloodied axe.

The shock was enough to remove any lingering drowsiness. I looked over the living room, but there was no blood anywhere else, other than the axe.

I rushed to the phone, which was still ringing, but before I got there, I heard banging from the front door.

There were two police officers, but they weren't human. They looked wolflike."


"The officers looked like werewolves?" The two detectives wore stone cold faces, and not a hint of surprise.


"I think. And Clarence was behind them, tied up to a stick like a chicken on a rotisserie."


The head detective leaned to his partner. "Told you she was crazy."


"I'm not crazy. It's all true!"

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