QR Code Murders: Thoughts Flowed

Yawquisha Hudlin rid the video of sibilance. The words sounded as crisp as an autumn evening. She got rid of the assonance, too. Every word flowed. She thought to herself about the next check due to deposit into her bank account. Her last video garnered fourteen million views. She also took in twenty thousand dollars in donations. It all stemmed from this work.

Her work. She didn’t use pride in the slimy, incoherent, false way people employed the term. She was elated at her effort and amazed at her own achievement.

By tapping a few keys, the picture and sound synced and produced an audiovisual feast for the mind’s eye. She took to her work by eliminating superfluous shots and people spiking the frame.

Every action she took favored the final product. Each time she looked at the controls she felt like a ship’s captain guiding a vessel through the sea or space.

In all of her findings, she still thought she could do more. More effort meant less misunderstanding or confusion.

The money was like the blood that informed the other organs to function. It literally bought her time. That’s what she craved. As her fingers glided over the keypad, she envisioned standing out while also blending into the background.

Her mind turned into the role of videographer, writer, and editor. This triumvirate allowed her to express herself and affect her own enlightenment. If anyone derived imagination, thought, or ideas from her work, that was only a bonus.

She thought about her ride-along experiences. Yawquisha lived for the entire days and nights she spent with Kim. Thoughts came to her mind’s dashboard. When she considered the warm glow after having completed the video, it was like a locket that she cherished.

In the same way as her thoughts flowed, so did her video on the streaming services. She had put Delaware on the map. Yawquisha expected nothing from anyone. Instead of just running away from the problems presented by the difficult cases, she met them head-on.

There was nothing she couldn’t do. The easiness she felt stood in stark contrast to the grinding work that weighed heavily on her brain. These were real life people. She didn’t care about them per se, only that they be respected in death more than they were in life.

These murders brought her to near depression. She knew better than to let her work disturb her frame of mind. She looked directly at the screen. More times than less, she found something. Such a discovery was always a benefit not a detriment to her.

With every swipe across the screen, every sound level check, she increased her acumen and came to realize her absolute potential. A college dropout with a penchant for getting the details just right, she surprised herself to the point where she had become a lantern unto her own self-improvement.

Yawquisha picked up her smartphone. She looked at the footage there and uploaded the video over Wi-Fi. As she made words make sense spoken by the men and women sharing their stories, she became entranced by their brevity, wit, and candor.

At times she laughed like an infant. Other times she wanted to cry like one. The face of an elderly woman lamenting the death of her grandson was bittersweet. The woman was strong in her conviction and carried a lightness in her tone. Her glance remained steely despite tugs on her thoughts to just blubber.

Still, she marched onward with her fingers. Every stroke emitted a light in her eyes that kept burning without ceasing. In the time that she could read through the comments, she could start another video. She lived, while others died, for the comments made by her viewers.