Post by Alan Fuckin' Alda on Apr 18, 2005 14:31:27 GMT -5
Looking down from the tower, Tom noticed something he had never seen before: murder. He had thought about it, though. One person's hands taking away the life of another. Tom always pictured the murderer with a crazed, vacant look in his eyes and the victim screaming for help, wrenching their body with whatever strength was left.
The reality, though, was quite different.
Tom had watched the same man everyday. From the heights of the great tower, he could barely make out the tools that were being used to perform whatever task the man set out to do. The best Tom could figure, this man was some sort of gardener, perhaps digging up carrots or radishes. It didn't really matter to Tom. He just enjoyed watching someone work. It wasn't really the work he enjoyed, but the sense of inevitability. Everyday at the same time the man would appear and do the same work. Some days he would go slow. Some days he would seemingly rush from task to task. But he was there everyday at the same time.
The working man was the only one Tom saw from the tower. So, to see someone else approach was quite queer. This new person looked quite different from the working man. His clothes were very bright; a red coat with blue pants as best he could make out. Like the working man, he carried tools with him. He pulled a cart behind him that carried many things that were difficult for Tom to make out. However, he could make out a shovel on top of the other gear.
The man and his cart approached very slowly. The working man seemed to take little notice of any approaching strangers. He continued toiling away, hunched over digging in the dirt with a small hand shovel, occasionally using his fingers. The other man stopped within a pace of the working man, who still did not notice. He slowly and deliberately picked up the shovel from the cart. "Well," Tom thought, "maybe the worker will now have someone to talk to." But it happened before Tom could even finish his thought.
With the shovel raised high above his head, this new man brought it crashing down on the worker's head. It didn't look too bad from Tom's viewpoint, but a second after it happened, the sound of metal meeting skull made it to his ears. There were no screams, no struggle to survive. One sound, and the deed had been done. Tom watched the worker's body slump over completely. If he had pictured this in his mind, Tom would have seen a lot of blood. But the only red he could see was the red coat of the man who was now nudging the body with his foot.
Tom wasn't quite sure what to think. He was too far away to see the man in detail, but he was sure his eyes probably had the same crazed, vacant look he had pictured. Definitely vacant, although the event seemed too careful and deliberate to be the work of a crazed killer.
The man had started to dig a hole. Tom was quite sure that this was to be an unfortunate grave. When the dead man's body was unceremoniously rolled into it, Tom could for the first time make out the smallest red splotches where the man eyes and mouth would be. They were soon covered up as the man filled the grave back up.
The tools that had belonged to the now dead worker were added to cart. The man then wiped the dirt off his hands on to his red coat, leaving two vertical stripes on the front that Tom could easily make out. After what seemed like a long pause, the man then grabbed the handle of his cart, and went back the way he came.
Tom was quite shocked. Not from the murder he had just witnessed, but from the way it differed the way he thought a murder would happen. There seemed to be nothing leading up to this. No dramatic fight, no cries for help. The working man never saw the shovel, never new his end was coming. The man was dead and didn't know it.
Of course Tom eventually came up with a scenario. He thought about the two men having some dispute the night before. Maybe an unpaid debt or jealous lover. Tom knew though that it must be something different. After all, his thoughts of a murder were quite different from what happened when he actually saw one.
The next day, at the normal time, a worker showed up. Apparently he had the same tools and wardrobe as the previous worker. As Tom watched, he knelt down to start digging in the soil right where the previous worker had stopped. Three feet from his grave.
The reality, though, was quite different.
Tom had watched the same man everyday. From the heights of the great tower, he could barely make out the tools that were being used to perform whatever task the man set out to do. The best Tom could figure, this man was some sort of gardener, perhaps digging up carrots or radishes. It didn't really matter to Tom. He just enjoyed watching someone work. It wasn't really the work he enjoyed, but the sense of inevitability. Everyday at the same time the man would appear and do the same work. Some days he would go slow. Some days he would seemingly rush from task to task. But he was there everyday at the same time.
The working man was the only one Tom saw from the tower. So, to see someone else approach was quite queer. This new person looked quite different from the working man. His clothes were very bright; a red coat with blue pants as best he could make out. Like the working man, he carried tools with him. He pulled a cart behind him that carried many things that were difficult for Tom to make out. However, he could make out a shovel on top of the other gear.
The man and his cart approached very slowly. The working man seemed to take little notice of any approaching strangers. He continued toiling away, hunched over digging in the dirt with a small hand shovel, occasionally using his fingers. The other man stopped within a pace of the working man, who still did not notice. He slowly and deliberately picked up the shovel from the cart. "Well," Tom thought, "maybe the worker will now have someone to talk to." But it happened before Tom could even finish his thought.
With the shovel raised high above his head, this new man brought it crashing down on the worker's head. It didn't look too bad from Tom's viewpoint, but a second after it happened, the sound of metal meeting skull made it to his ears. There were no screams, no struggle to survive. One sound, and the deed had been done. Tom watched the worker's body slump over completely. If he had pictured this in his mind, Tom would have seen a lot of blood. But the only red he could see was the red coat of the man who was now nudging the body with his foot.
Tom wasn't quite sure what to think. He was too far away to see the man in detail, but he was sure his eyes probably had the same crazed, vacant look he had pictured. Definitely vacant, although the event seemed too careful and deliberate to be the work of a crazed killer.
The man had started to dig a hole. Tom was quite sure that this was to be an unfortunate grave. When the dead man's body was unceremoniously rolled into it, Tom could for the first time make out the smallest red splotches where the man eyes and mouth would be. They were soon covered up as the man filled the grave back up.
The tools that had belonged to the now dead worker were added to cart. The man then wiped the dirt off his hands on to his red coat, leaving two vertical stripes on the front that Tom could easily make out. After what seemed like a long pause, the man then grabbed the handle of his cart, and went back the way he came.
Tom was quite shocked. Not from the murder he had just witnessed, but from the way it differed the way he thought a murder would happen. There seemed to be nothing leading up to this. No dramatic fight, no cries for help. The working man never saw the shovel, never new his end was coming. The man was dead and didn't know it.
Of course Tom eventually came up with a scenario. He thought about the two men having some dispute the night before. Maybe an unpaid debt or jealous lover. Tom knew though that it must be something different. After all, his thoughts of a murder were quite different from what happened when he actually saw one.
The next day, at the normal time, a worker showed up. Apparently he had the same tools and wardrobe as the previous worker. As Tom watched, he knelt down to start digging in the soil right where the previous worker had stopped. Three feet from his grave.