Flash fiction in a flash.
Her knuckles almost protruded through their skin, as she gripped the steering wheel with all her might. Elation ripped through her veins. The silk, blood splattered nightdress lay cool on her goose pimples. She didn’t care that it wasn’t her blood. How she craved to see the sight of his blood on the floor, pouring from his dead heart, dead soul. Tonight, she had done it. Finally. It felt every bit as good as she had imagined. There wasn’t a sinner to be seen as the town slept soundly. She smiled. Tonight, she would sleep well. Abandoning her flash car, she walked towards the reassuring glass door. A strong beautiful woman looked on at the reflection of a broken down shell, with a gruesome black eye and split lip. Yet her heart was light and her spirit free. Carrying a sense of relief and hope, she opened the door and walked into the police station.