Albert Walker looked at the sharp knife in his hands and felt angry.

He walked over to the broken window where his ex through a shoe at it and remembered how much he hated her. He had always loved The Farm with its careful, cows. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel something.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Alice Hemingway. Alice was his ex with tattooed arm and skinny hands.

Albert gulped. He glanced at his broken window. He was a skinny, long, alcohol drinker with tall arm and lean hands. His friends saw him as a angry, sad, muscular. Once, he had even brought his favorite knife he threatened to kill his ex with no one believed him.

But even a skinny person who had once ben a happy man could get a motive to do a terrible thing.

The sun felt good on Albert face making him feel something again.

As Albert stepped outside and Alice came closer, he could see the sorry glint in her eye.

"I am here because I want leave him," Alice bellowed, in a stubborn tone. She slammed her fist against Albert's chest, with the force of 604 bull. "I fucking hate you, Albert Walker."

Albert looked back, even more nothing and still gripping the sharp knife. "Alice, you love fucking other guys," he replied.

They looked at each other with sad feelings, like two people who still had feeling for each other. it was Christmas day had jazz music playing in the background and two Carol's singing.

Suddenly, Alice lunged forward and tried to punch Albert in the face. Quickly, Albert grabbed the sharp knife and brought it down on Alice's skull.

Alice's tattooed arm trembled and her skinny hands wobbled. She looked hurt, her body looked lifeless.

Then she let out an agonising groan and then she was silent. Moments later Alice Hemingway was dead.

Albert Walker went back inside and made himself a nice drink of whiskey. he was finally at peace moments later police showed up to fine two dead bodys.

THE END


© C.W