Fleeting, Incandescent Joy
Michelle experienced five weeks of bliss in her life. It was the kind of fleeting, incandescent joy which diminishes from too much thought or appreciation.
She was aware of the passing of time the same way she was aware of flies gathering and buzzing round the bin bags. She hung up strips of flypaper; she turned up the volume on the radio.
She remembered one day in particular, when radio voices happened to be talking about her heinous crime. She had listened, nodded along to their opinionated accents, and then her cooking show had started, and she had become engrossed.