The Cook

The cool breeze that evening was quite a contrast to the warmth of the day. July was one of the busiest months, therefore Jeremy needed to deal more frequently with his supplier. Jeremy had always liked to enjoy a cigarette quietly before a deal. It helped him clear his head and be able to judge the merchandise he bought better.

When it was time, Jeremy was there in the shadows waiting softly.

He watched in silence as the butcher approached, hatchet in one hand and her hair grasped in the other, as he dragged her trembling body along the cement floor. She whimpered in fear. The butcher started working – swiftly, deftly until she was motionless, a crimson pool at his feet.

Jeremy lit another cigarette. “How much?” he asked, blowing out smoke.

“You can have this one free. She’s special”

He hesitated, suspicious as the butcher gave a laugh showing off his crooked teeth.

“Really, this one’s free. Now take it and leave”

“What’s so special about her?” Jeremy asked, curious, as he opened a large black plastic bag.

“Oh she was once my wife. Your customers will be very pleased; I can guarantee that.”


“Please give my compliments to the cook. We have never tasted anything so delicious!” a satisfied couple was saying to the waiter who had appeared to clear their table.

Overhearing the comment as he slipped out on a smoke break, Jeremy smiled to himself. As the cook had been promised, his customers were pleased.