||[Mar. 16th, 2005|09:29 pm]
It was done in a flash. A flick of the hand ended his suffering, or so he imagined. One violent outburst to end the torment, it seemed to make up for the lack of sleep his bullies had subjected him to. The pain they had caused him.
His atrocious act had spoilt all merit he had built up over the years. A simple thing, one kill, so easy, so easily justified, so easily dismissed.
Not by him though. He knew the consequences. He was a bad buddhist, a horrible monk, the remains of a dead mosquito smeared on his hand.
Originally one of my 50-word stories, see my LJ.
Hope you enjoyed it.
x-posted to onehundredwords