Member-only story
Alms of the Sun
A Short Story Set Against the Backdrop of a Riot
After digging a narrow but deep hole in the lawn at the backyard of his house, he pulled out a knife, polythene wrapped, from the inside pocket of his coat, and hurriedly dumped it in the hole. After filling the hole with mud again, he stood up looking all around him. No-one saw him. Inhaling deep, he exhaled noisily and walked towards his house. Through the back door he entered his house, slithered to the bedroom and found his wife sleeping on the bed. The wall clock showed an hour past midnight.
He got rid of his shirt and shoes, visited the bathroom to cleanse himself off the riot, the dirt, the fire, the noise and the blood and returned to the bedroom. He lay beside his wife and shut his eyes reminding himself that he didn’t do anything wrong, that everything was fine, that they deserved it.
For a while he was peaceful, but then the day’s events started disturbing him. The ghastly images stirred the sensitive spots of his brain.
He couldn’t believe what he had done that day; how a strange kind of lunacy had captured his mind and forced him to be the part of such inhuman act. But he wasn’t alone; there was a throng of angry people involved in that crime, all ready to prove their worth, their loyalty to their political party.
