The harsh winds were biting against his raw, exposed skin as he stopped in his tracks, bending low to catch his breath. Perking up his ears to make sure no one was behind him, he grabbed the sack again, trudging on the path that was caked with dried mud and littered with dried leaves that crackled beneath his heavy footfalls and the huge sack that he was dragging behind him. Unbeknownst to him, blood was already pooling at the side of the sack as he panted and continued pulling as a dog howled from afar, sending chills down his neck that had nothing to do with the howling wind against his ears.
The light from full moon filtered through the canopy of leaves cowering overhead as the irritation on his palms, from holding on to the neck of the scratchy sack for long, started to increase. Thankfully, he heard the soft sound of water pouring in as he reached the river, calm and mysterious with the accompaniment of croaking toads and crickets.
Heaving rather heavily, he dragged the sack to the bank as he hoisted it up with utmost difficulty, grunting in pain. With one push, he sent the hefty sack propelling into the river with a loud splash, followed by a deafening silence that was only punctured by his shivering breaths. Exhaling in relief, he turned around to leave – but was stopped in his tracks when he heard a similar splash to his right. He turned sharply, to witness another man standing across him, hands on his knees and panting. The man slowly turned his face towards him, grinning.
“Taking out the trash on New Year’s Eve I suppose ?”
“It’s not what you think it is.”
“Me neither. Surprisingly, the river has gained two dead bodies tonight instead of one.”
