What murder weapon did you discover today?
Do all crime writers see ways to die or kill or maim in everything they do? Or is it just me?
In the last 24 hours, my ordinary activities have conjured the following tragedies:
Shopping in the supermarket – I purchase a watermelon, take it home, place it on the kitchen bench, cut it with a knife, and it blows up. There are nails inside. I die. (This happened to my mother-in-law yesterday, minus the nails and the death. Yellow flesh watermelons are currently dangerous).
Having tea and cake over Source Code, the movie. My daughter offers to make the tea, decides it would be pretty to brew it in a glass jug. The jug explodes, boiling water spews. (She’s okay, thankfully, just a minor burn, but what if she’d been peering into the jug at the time? Agh.)
My eyes are sore in the middle of the night. Half-asleep, I reach for a small bottle and put something drop-like in them. They’re not eye-drops. Whatever they are make my eyes melt onto my face.
Running on the treadmill – I accidentally pull the stop cord and fall back onto a metal spike which has been placed strategically by a long-term running rival.
Being a crime writer makes life stressful. Or am I the only one? What awful tragedies have you imagined today?