This is a snippet of what I wrote last night, well actually at 4 AM this morning. It’s random and unedited; there’s no particular story. Yet. I haven’t decided. I love the crime genre but always second guess my writing skills when it comes to crime fiction. Here it is:
I smelt it before I saw it. There was no mistaking the rusty, decaying smell of death. It overpowered the odor of garbage, sewage and sex as women of the night stood on corners of shady alleyways. “It’s this way,” I said. We walked down a dark alley and James, a young ambitious writer, pulled his jacket up to his nose, trying to mask the smell. The body lay in an awkward position, like a broken doll, between shards of glass, old boxes and a large dumpster. “Holy shit,” James’ voice was muffled by the jacket covering his mouth and nose but there was no mistaking the shocked undertone in his voice. “This is…I don’t even…I can’t-“he threw up, one hand on the dumpster, the other clutching his stomach as he heaved the day’s lunch. The scent of vomit added to the already noisome stench that permeated the air. When the retching ceased he looked at me, apologetic, and took out a small notepad from his breast pocket. “You have a little something,” I said and pointed to his mouth. He wiped at it with the back of his hand while I bent down, inspecting the body. Her corpse was cold and clammy. Her dark hair lay across the cold hard floor, some strands stuck to her lips. Her eyes were dark-rimmed and wide open. “She wore contact lenses,” I noted, one eye an artificial hazel while the other was a deep brown.
Critique welcomed 😉