Soap

He kept washing his hands with soap.

"What happened?" I asked.

He was crying. I held his shoulder.

"I can't get the blood out of my hand. It is red everywhere."

I had never seen my son like this before. "What blood," I was worried.

"Out, damned spot!" he kept mumbling to himself.

Suddenly he looked at me and said, "Duncan died because of me. I am the killer."

I got scared. What had my son done? What was he talking?

The entry pass to the theater where my son attended the play 'Macbeth' was lying on the table.


This 99 word fiction is shared with Blogging from A to Z April Challenge - S.