Cozy readers—and especially Chicks on the Case readers—are some of the most creative folks on the planet, so we’re asking you to play Chick Pic with us! Give us a couple of sentences: Who is this character? What’s their back story? Victim, murderer, nosy neighbor, innocent suspect? The more ridiculous the better!
Each comment can build on the next until we have a fully-fleshed out character. Or if you don’t like the direction the comment thread is going, start a new one. Writing is all about rewriting, after all. Let’s have some wacky creative fun!
Chicks on the Case 
A tear escaped from the edge of Martha’s left eye and drifted there, soaking itself in remnants of red rouge, and slowly began painting its way down her cheek. One thought looped through her tired mind: enough — Ted must die — today.
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Slowly she decided the stairs, step by step. All the while, plotting ways for Ted to die. Hmmmm, he was such a glutton. Perhaps a special cake or cupcakes, just for him.
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Perhaps a cup of tea. But is that too Arsenic and Old Lace? Too mundane? Too old ladyish? Martha made a mental list of all the potential weapons in her kitchen.
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Martha lifted her left foot gently over the fishing line she’d stretched between the wall and the banister spindle. It wouldn’t do to “fall” into her own trap. Not when she had to prepare a special treat for Ted’s recovery. If the fall didn’t take care of the job.
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She saw Ted’s photo hanging on the landing, she paused. He wasn’t ALL bad; there had been some good times…. Was she being too hasty? But then she remembered what he’d done the previous Thursday night and, with a fierce shake of the head, continued down the stairs.
Yes, he must die today.
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Speaking of arsenic, why was Ted still alive and kicking? Martha had thought the arsenic-laden wallpaper in his bedroom (of course, they slept in separate rooms) would’ve killed him already. It was taking way too long… Thus, the trip to the kitchen and taking a quick inventory of the heavy copper pans and sharp knives.
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The kitchen door burst open, and Martha whirled from the knife block. Her sister, Miriam, barging in as usual, at the most inopportune time. Martha gripped the marble counter behind her and forced a smile through gritted teeth. Maybe her sister should be next. “It’s Ted!” Miriam said, out of breath. “He’s dead in the garden!”
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Funny, all of you went to the exact same place I did. This nice looking lady is a killer.
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Gee, I can’t imagine why, Mark! 🙂
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Thank goodness Ted is dead. I briefly feared he would push her down the stairs!
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“He’s dead?” Martha said, feigning surprise. “That’s terrible. He was supposed to take me to see the nursing home he wanted me to move into today. I guess now that will never happen.”
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