The mind of a mystery writer.

Hi, Peeps -

I just wanted to write a quick post to tell you what happened last night. My hubby and I are involved with Grad Night festivities at my son's high school (Valencia in Placentia), so we went to the gym to help decorate. At this stage, decorating consists of painting and glueing and otherwise preparing things to be hung up once we get control of the building.

We're working in the old gym, which has separate, raised alcoves for bleachers on one side and lockers on the other side, divided from the gym floor with metal rails. All the painting, etc. is done on the locker-side, which is unused, and we lock it up each time so no one can come in and mess with our stuff.

So Dale and I walk in, look up to the work area and see three women on their knees, scrubbing the floor. It turns out, Mary had picked up the can of orange paint and given it a shake to mix it. Too bad the top wasn't firmly attached. Paint flew in all directions - she got some good range on it.

Here's the fun part: when I saw them scrubbing my first thought was, I wonder what they did with the body.

I know. Sick, yes?