Funeral

I encounter many sorrows daily. But today's funeral is, admittedly, a bit different.

A woman weeps, clinging to the deceased. Many people seem to sympathize with her. But I alone know the truth: she is the cause of this tragedy.

Her act is convincing, no one appears suspicious. Perhaps she really is crying tears of sorrow. Just because she killed him doesn't mean she can't mourn his death.

Yet, I see tension and fear in her expression.

I silently observe her. What happens after the funeral is almost none of my concern.

Right after the hearse's departure horn ceases, a gunshot rings out from the crowd.