Justifiable Homicide

“Would you like a cup of tea?”


“Okay, well then… why don’t you start? Take us back to that morning.”

“We went for a walk.”

“Your wife and you?”


“Just the two of you?”


“Carry on.”

“I picked up my camera bag and we left the house. We went for a walk. I photographed a few things.”

“What sort of things?”

“Anything. I photograph anything interesting. Buildings, people, views, rubbish, anything.”

“Carry on.”

“We got near the pub – the Rose – and she told me to put the camera away.”

“This camera?”


“Tell me about it. I don’t know much about them.”

“Digital SLR. Canon. Telephoto lens. I’m not sure what you want to know.”

“That’s fine. So, you got to the pub and put your camera away?”

“No. I don’t put my camera away. I might see something interesting.”

“So you argued?”

“No. Not really. We went in a had a drink and I didn’t put the camera away. I didn’t spill anything on the camera. I don’t know what her problem was.”

“Indeed. Did anything else happen there?”

“No. We left after the drink and carried on with the walk. Then we noticed the clouds coming in and we decided we should probably make for another pub.”

“People after my own heart. Did anything happen here?”

“She told me to put the camera away when the first spots of rain came down.”


“No, the camera is water-resistant. A few spots won’t hurt it.”

“So you didn’t put the camera away?”

“No. Rain can be good to photograph.”

“And when you got to the second pub?”

“I kept the camera out there too. We were indoors then. And there were some interesting people in the pub.”

“Did you photograph them?”

“No, but I could have.”

“And how did your wife feel about this?”

“She was irritated, but she always is.”

“Irritated enough to fight?”

“No, we didn’t fight. We left the pub and saw an old woman fall over in the street so I photographed her. My wife was not pleased. She said we should have helped but it was on the other side of the road and there were other people nearer. Here, here’s the photo I took.”

“Ouch! Face in the turd!”

“I know. Classic. Anyway, it would have been difficult to get across the road as there was a funeral procession driving slowly through just about then.”

“And you… photographed it?”

“Yes. The reflections in the rain puddles of the cars and their flowers was too good to miss.”

“I’ll bet your wife didn’t think the same thing.”

“She thought it was disrespectful; said I should have kept the camera down at the very least. I pointed out that what takes place in public is fair game but she has this bee in her bonnet about people’s privacy and all that crap. She just hates my hobby.”

“Did you fight then?”

“No. I wouldn’t fight about that. Why would I?”

“Perhaps you should move the story forward to when you fought.”

“It was later. Quite a bit later. We had been to a few places. She had asked me to put the camera away on a number of occasions.”

“And you hadn’t?”

“No, but eventually I decided to humour her. You know, for a bit of peace since she looked so grumpy.”

“Go on.”

“I put the camera away.”


“Then we saw a crocodile.”

“That’s unusual for an English city.”

“I know.”

“What did you do?”

“I tried to get my camera back out of the camera bag.”


“I got distracted by the eagle. It flew right over our heads and grabbed the crocodile from the ground.”


“I got my camera out as it took off with the crocodile writhing in its talons.”

“Did you take a shot?”

“The lens cap was still on and we were knocked back just then by the electrical vortex that sparked into existence just in front of us.”

“A vortex?”

“I can’t describe it any other way. An astronaut stepped from it and pointed some brick-shaped device at the crocodile and eagle. They froze and faded and just disappeared.”

“What were you doing at this time?”

“Trying to set aperture priority on the camera.”

“Did you succeed?”

“Just after the vortex took the astronaut away from us; he waved, by the way.”

“That’s pretty strange.”


“And the fight?”

“My wife asked me if I’d caught any of it on camera so I cleaved her skull in with it.”

Author: Mark

Share This Post On

Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *