Rain started falling. The water made it harder. Dirt kept falling into the hole as he dug.
Lightning lit up the land.
The body was lying beside him, half under the bushes. It’s head was cleaved. The rain washed away the fresh blood. The hole was getting deeper. He had to go down to keep digging.
Thunder rolled over the sky.
The water was up to his knees now, but he kept digging. He had to make sure the body would not be found, like he had done with the other one, so many years ago.
He took the last shove. Got out of the hole.
It was over. He could have peace now, now that his neighbour was out of the way. The young son would be taken away, and he would have the land for himself. He took the body, pulled it over to the watery grave. Threw it in. Picked up his metal shovel and started shoving in the dirt. It was easy, the rain did half the job.
He fell upon his dead neighbour. The smell of burned flesh mixed with the humid air. Dirt was falling down from the sides of the hole.