bad , but fate awaits the choice we make . Or so they would believe .
I can ’ t help but laugh at how gullible these village folk are . What fools . Thanks to their naivety , this is all so easy . Of course , I shouldn ’ t have come . I should have waited . I could have ruined everything . The curiosity , I am ashamed to say , won . As it is , I can stay for only part of the service since I have not yet solved the issue of transporting the larger casket to this site before the sun sets . That problem is for later . For now , I want to enjoy this macabre charade .
They don ’ t mourn the man turned to ashes . They don ’ t mourn him . No one remembers his valor . They know only his last accusation . No one loves a killer . No one misses a murderer , yet they dab their faces with cloths to catch fake tears . They hug to console each other . Fools , all of them . Grave fools . Their grief is false . Suitable , I think , as this corpse ’ s sentence was false . I know . My master knows . This dead man was not the killer . The fools don ’ t know . They don ’ t know my master ’ s work . That man , that poor pile of ashes , was innocent . What is more , he will not rest in peace . They don ’ t know this man , who had been jailed and executed unjustly , will be , well , shall we say evicted ? The real murderer , my master , will make this wellprepared place of rest his home . I catch myself before a laugh escapes , and I squat behind a conifer .
Maureen Mancini Amaturo , New York based fashion-beauty writer / columnist , teaches writing , leads the Sound Shore Writers Group , which she founded in 2007 , and produces literary events . Her work has appeared in The Dark Sire ( nominated for the Bram Stoker Award , 2020 ), Boned , Every Day Fiction , Coffin Bell Journal , and others .
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