The Picture of Guilt (160 words)
I never shoulda done it.
How was I to know the po-lice would send a guy with a camera? Or that the captain would later look at that photo and wonder about Samuel’s sly grin?
It was our brother sittin’ dead in that car. That’s why I’d run to the hotel with a telephone.
“No way that colored boy’d be smilin’ unless he had something to do with it,” the officer who’d arrested him had insisted.
I didn’t know what to think. I’d only done what mama’d taught me – get help when help is needed. My brother had needed help. I’d had to make the call.
Now Samuel’s in prison and mama says she ain’t never gonna forgive me.
I lost two brothers that day.
I see it now, looking at that picture from years ago. I see me peeking out from behind, worry all over my face.
Deep down I’d known.
Mama always said nothing happens by accident.
For this week’s story, I had to use 150 words, +/- 10 (thank goodness for that, since I always seem to need those extra 10), and had to incorporate a phone call somehow.
What story would you tell, looking at this picture? Come join us at Flash Friday Fiction and share your version. I’d love to hear your opinion of mine!