Convicted and Condemned
In this gray morning Tracy and I slipped on our hunting jackets and stepped out into the fog. The rifles across our shoulders wore heavily but we had only a short distance to go. After the bog and the stand of pine, I noticed a breathing patch of ground. Did it live? We approached, and the flock of feeding vultures lifed their heads to stare at us. I found them to be blind as earthworms, but with a terrible second sight that beheld us and knew who we were. “They have judged us and found us guilty,” Tracy whispered in my ear.
“They can smell the murder on our breath,” I said.
Tracy lifted his head from my shoulder.