The Beaten Track
an excerpt

She tried to re-open them, but they were jammed. She swore loudly as she wrestled with them, ignoring the letters plopping on her doormat. Finally, with a mighty wrench, the curtain glided open once more, as easily as it usually did. Feeling a little uneasy, she went upstairs for her shoes.

By the time she returned downstairs, the curtains were closed yet again.

*******
For a moment, she hesitated. If she pulled the sheets away, what was she going to see underneath? Her hope was a waxwork dummy. Preferably even a blow up sex-doll. One that squeaked like a chew toy.
*******
Yes, she was fairly sure Tom has driven her back here. He didn't drink, and she had had enough alcohol to make ten obese builders pass out. Maria sat on the step, now trying to focus on the events of the night before. It was a little like trying to produce a jigsaw with only a quarter of the pieces, or playing a game of Scrabble with all the consonants missing. And the 'Y's.
*******
Frankly, on a normal day, she would have been ready to run through walls to escape from Burger King. It really was good nobody could see how desperate she was in her current situation.
*******
It happened very quickly. Maria felt a horrid crunching sensation, like her throat had forced itself inside out. Her neck jerked awkwardly, and her sight turned to black. She screamed an unheard scream, and curled up in a foetal position.
*******
He was looking in the direction of the swings, pretty near to where she was sat. She gazed in his direction for a little while, before he wandered off.

But for the briefest split second, Maria was convinced he looked directly in her eyes. She was positive he looked at her, not through her. But there again, that was probably wishful thinking on her behalf. He walked away just before she did, and neither looked back.
*******
"According to forensics, she died at about three-thirty. Her television was on. Someone must really hate Quizmania."
*******