Taking Out the Trash
A twig snapped as the wind blew through the trees.
Stacy paused to listen, looking around to see if anyone unexpected was around. Nothing was worse than having others intruding where they didn’t belong. Except a sister that’s freaking late.
A couple of minutes later, her sister pushed through the brambles on the other side of the path. Grunting, she tried brushing them off her jacket.
“Will you chill? You should’ve taken the path.”
“Shut up. He’s dead, you know. The poison worked, though I would’ve preferred something sharp.”
“This was cleaner.”
“Whatever. At least Dad won’t do that anymore.”