Revenge - Story

Jimmy heaved a sigh of relief and sat down on the stairs that led to the grounds. He lit a cigarette and took a deep lazy drag. It felt good.

Peace comes at last, he thought, gazing at the horizon. Next rain will wash away the blood stains from the walls. No, there wasn't a question about it. They had to die. He knew that for sure. There will be no suffering for anyone anymore at last.

Hard as he tried not to, he could not stop pondering about and trying to validate the brutal torture before they were killed. Death of the criminal merely ensures stopping of the crime; but where is the revenge of the sufferers.

His gaze shifted to his hand that held the cigarette in his long artist's fingers. The specks of blood were almost dry. In his heart he knew he’ll never be sure about what he had done today. He decided he will leave it to time. If not prove it valid, time will perhaps make him forget.

It traced a graceful red streak and landed afar when Jimmy casually flicked the cigarette in the air. He stood up and staggered back into the house. Right now there is a celebration to be planned.

(This story has been written for 3 words wednesday. The prompts are "Heave", "Valid" and "Ponder")
Oh! I also watched Django Unchained yesterday :-)

Drab Pulsating Tendrils

This 100 word post is written for

Life's been drab since the hurricane, when I woke up staring at the churning gray sky. The crashing sound of Billy Bull hit by the roof had awakened me. I remember running out without having to open the door and be surprised by seeing what I saw for I saw nothing. Farm ruined, animals gone, even Kitty. Later I found her rotting corpse a mile North. Grandpa’s Red Maple gone.

Roofless ruined walls remain; closing in like tendrils of devil's hair and I, the heart inside the host tree - barely pulsating.

Slumber of certainty sometimes makes you miss saying goodbye.