The snow will cover me

Sweat prickles forth on my forehead, and I stop my digging to wipe it away before it runs into my eyes.   I take a small breather, watching my breath form in the winter air. My t-shirt is sticking uncomfortably to my skin even though I’m only wearing a sweater.

I curse myself yet again for doing this in the winter when the ground is hard and difficult to dig up. And if it weren’t for the fact that I’m over halfway there, I would have found another place to dump the shit.

I peer into the hole, trying to decide if it’s big enough before I turn and head towards the car to get the bag. I really hope it’s going to fit. The prospect of shoveling more hard dirt isn’t appealing right now when I’m soaked with sweat.

I lean the shovel against the car before reaching for the suitcase, hoisting and heaving, until it finally hits the ground. I had no idea how heavy dead weight was until now. But god, it feels like the suitcase weighs a ton as I try to drag it towards the hole in the ground.

How much time I use to get the damn thing into the hole, I don’t know, but it feels like an eternity passes before I finally get it in. Then I head towards the car for my shovel before I start to throw the dirt back in place.

I use my time to get it to look undisturbed, careful to not leave behind a speck of evidence. Just in case someone stumbles across it and connects it to me. And they will, because he is my husband after all.  My cheating, dead husband.

Satisfied with my work I head back towards the car, placing the shovel in the back before seating myself in the drivers side. My hand freezes on the keys in the ignition, and I cast a look in the rearview mirror, adjusting it until I see his resting place.

What if someone finds him? I would be in so much trouble. God. Maybe I should have dumped him in the river like I originally planned? My hand reaches for the door handle just as a single snowflake lands on my window.  It couldn’t have come at a better time, I think as I twist the key and listen to the engine roar to life.

I drive off slowly, confident that the snow will cover all my tracks.


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