“James Burnham was shot and killed yesterday,” the reporter on the TV says as James pours himself coffee, smirking—“

Nellie raised her hand. “I’m sorry, can you clarify that sentence? I don’t understand the protagonist’s motivation.”

Charlotte felt her heart sink into her stomach, already quesy from too many snickerdoodles and eggnog. One of her manuscript pages slid out of her hand onto the floor.

“Well, the idea is, that James Burnham is still alive and thus his “faking death” plan seems to be working…” Charlotte replied.

“Huh,” Nellie said. “Interesting take on the prompt.”

Charlotte thought about this, later, when watching the police report about Nellie’s inexplicable death by an unknown gunman.

[Author’s note: I do not endorse violence of this type. 😬]