The sun was setting over the snow-capped hills giving new life to the low clouds glowing pink, orange and deep purple in the fading sky and reflecting against the blue black indeterminate waters of a large shallow lake. A young man stood solemnly by the waters’ edge, barely breathing- staring glassy-eyed across the wind whipped waters. He hadn’t wanted to do it, this terrible deed which caused him so much grief. He knew it had been necessary to support his family, but cold-blooded murder… On his knees now, the man softly sobbed into his calloused hands. It was just too much. On this day he had ended a life and he knew that he would be forced to do it again and again. His wife knew all about it of course- he could hide nothing from her, however dastardly a deed. What confounded him though was that not only did she not mind but she actually encouraged him to go through with it. Even going so far as telling him not to come home unless he had done murder that day. Now at least, he could go home. Though he knew she would be disappointed that he had not killed more, for they needed the money that his excursions would bring. Shakily he stood up and tried to wipe away the signs of grief from his reddened face. Picking up his pack he forced himself to look at the corpse. How sad it looked. Gingerly, he picked up the small damp fish and wandered home, weeping all the way.

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Based on something I wrote in my creative writing group but lost. The humour's in the ending :)

updated Apr 11 '11 by JessWess