Playing God

Katherine used to be beautiful. She once had flowing black hair and green eyes that shined with life, but now her hair still dark is now dull and her green eyes always appear tired. She’s skinny, maybe too skinny, and her limbs just dangle about. Her meek hands wrap around the handles of her shopping bags. Her knuckles are white from gripping so tightly. She prefers to walk home rather than to drive since the grocery store is only a few blocks away from her house.

            On a typical day, Katherine would walk on the main road to get to the grocery store, but today there is construction being done so she decides to cut through a different street. She’s been this way once or twice, but doesn’t prefer it because she thinks it seems a little sketchy.

            Leaving the store, she makes her way with her bags through the parking lot and goes down a short street to get to the back road. The weight of the bags slows down her pace as she goes on. The road is empty of cars and the sidewalk is empty people. The only thing scenic about the back road is the expansive orange grove across the street. The few times that she took this road, she always admired the never ending forest of orange trees. The trees are dotted with oranges that are perfectly ripe for picking. She looks upon the grove as she walks by just thinking about how great those oranges probably are.

Walking pass and getting closer to home, her desire for the oranges keeps growing. “Taking one or two oranges wouldn’t be a crime,” she thinks to herself. She didn’t think of buying any when she was at the market nor did she have enough money to do so anyway. She glances to her left then to her right and crosses the streets with her long, boney legs guiding her. She goes to the closest tree to her and places her bags on the grass. She reaches up and tenderly grips an orange and forces it off of the tree. She takes the orange and stuffs it into one of her already filled bags. “I have room for a few more,” she thinks to herself again. Simple enough of a task, she picks about seven oranges and forces her bags to make room for them.

She was able to fit them all in, except for one. Even though the bag in her left hand is causing her enough strain and is just as heavy as the bad in her right hand, she forces her right hand to hold onto both of these bags. She takes the orange, puts it up to her face, and starts to peel it with her teeth. With half of the orange peeled, she takes a bit as she walks across the street. As her teeth sink into the orange, a faded black pick up truck is driving up the street. The more her teeth sink into the orange, the closer the truck gets. She successfully takes a bite. The truck smashes into her. The truck with only a dent on its grill smoothly rides along. Katherine is left there on the black gravel with her groceries and blood spread about.