Tuesday Tales 2024-4-23 Mouth

Welcome to Tuesday Tales, powered by a small group of authors, where word prompts inspire passages in the books we’re writing. Today’s word is mouth. My snippet is from a cozy mystery set in fictional Glisten, Georgia. When you finish reading, make sure to visit all the talented authors of Tuesday Tales.

The following week passed without further shock. The two otherworldly inhabitants I thought of as the “Tea Thyme spirits”—the floaty lady who appeared to me all the way down in Florida to warn me about Jack, and then led me down Sparrow Trail to find a body, and the orange friskie that smelled of a harsh cigar and twirled like a cat on a rampage—were as silent as, excuse my saying it, the tomb. The wailing specter had also disappeared. I gave thanks for the latter, hoping it was more than a respite. As far as living inhabitants, I didn’t see much of Luella, who returned from the session with Pelier too flattened to open her mouth or even enter the kitchen. When Roy dropped her off, she went straight to her room and closed the door.

I immediately called Roy. “Did Pelier badger her?” I asked, not bothering to hide my indignation.

“No more than he did you. His hard tack manner is not mine, but he’s not out to trick anyone. He’s all business. Questioning hits folks in different ways. If she was forthcoming and hiding nothing, then her part should be done. Otherwise, she’ll be brought back for another interview or a formal deposition.”

“Thanks for setting my mind at ease,” I retorted. Then, thinking better of my grumpiness, I added, “Thanks for everything, Roy. I am truly grateful to you.”

“I know.” His tone was gentle.

Anyway, Luella took to her room, emerging only for an occasional trip to the cupboard or fridge. She still didn’t want to talk, which suited me because I didn’t know what to tell her.

Robin spent two more nights at Tea Thyme, before returning to her own apartment. A seasonal community edition had her working all hours, so I didn’t see her much either. Although I talked to Dovie almost every day, Jack’s condition hadn’t changed. The absence of progress made me even more determined to see his projects through.

Kitty also called. She was under the weather but would be back to work next week, on Wednesday, her regular day, as it turned out. Her schedule would increase nearer the Pumpkin Fest. “I can’t believe the murder,” she wailed. She and I weren’t close friends, frenemies or rivals more like, but what a terrible thing to happen. Strangled like that! And you found the body! Weren’t you simply horrified, Peri?”

Thanks for stopping by. I hope you enjoyed the piece inspired by the word mouth. If you haven’t done so already, check out the other excerpts at Tuesday Tales.

Cheers & Happy Reading!

Flossie Benton Rogers, Conjuring the Magic with Spirited Stories

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