Writing Practice, 100 words with prompt
purse, theatre, travesty.
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This is my entry: Criminal
Rain plunked a heavy song upon the roofs of parked cars. A large drop caught the bridge of Jane’s nose leaving a cold trail to her lips. Her tongue darted out remembering the taste of snowflakes as a child.
She made a beeline for a silent marquee. The windows of the centuries old theater were boarded over, graffiti splattered the marble walls. Her fingers trembled as she dug into her purse for the gun. A swastika monopolized her vision.
“Justice is but a travesty,” she muttered pressing cold steel to her temple.
Her blood washed away in the rain.