Melina in the Garden

A row of carrots had been planted, their round orange tops just sticking out of the dirt, their greenery sprouting out of them almost like hair. Melina dropped the tarot cards and death landed among the carrots. The card was old and bent but the eyes of the skeleton depicted still stared mercilessly. Melina’s hand fell onto the green carrot sprigs, bending them, as her blood spread and soaked into the dirt. The killer went and sat on the hammock, cleaning under his fingernails with his knife-blade as he rocked back and forth. He wore black from head to toe and even his face was wrapped in black, dark sunglasses with thin silver rims covering his eyes. He wore a black cowboy hat with a band decorated with round silver medallions. His black boots, spattered with blood, had silver toe tips.

He rose, then knelt to pull one of the carrots. He brushed off the dirt and fed the carrot to his horse before pulling himself up onto his saddle and galloping away in a cloud of purple smoke.

The wind picked up and blew the death tarot card back into Melina’s hand and she opened her eyes, watching the killer getting smaller and smaller across the field. Then her eyes lost their sight and she died, her fingers squeezing the card tightly until it crumpled.

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