Soil

I hear Gunshots.

Everything outside is dark and wet because the rain has soaked the November dust tonight and there I hear Gunshots.


It is a lone shot at first.

It is followed by a series of them.

I run to the balcony to see.

Where is it coming from? I wonder.... Where.

Then from the darkness I see two shades moving away from me, and one dark heap lying on the ground.

I run downstairs, open my door and run to the heap.

It is another person. It is another person who is now dead.

I do not know him. But he is dead.

Dead


I walk away. He is already dead and it is dark and wet here. I fear for myself. I will come back, I promise. Tomorrow. When ants would make holes on your eyelid to tear at your dead cornea. They like the sound of the tearing flesh when they make a steady attempt to demolish you with their comrades...

But you have made the first sacrifice. From here, the ants will come back, but they will not be able to eat you up. We will see to it. We will take you away and let you be in peace. The ants shall sample other bodies too, but we will try to salvage them before they get those bodies.

And then I shall trample the ants under my shod foot and kill them all. The ones who can run away will run away. I will stare at my mess and laugh at their death.

But for now, I leave. Let me go... I promise I shall be back.