Water and Blood - A Microfiction Short Story
His butcher knife wasn’t sharp enough. He saw the meat cleaver in the sink and picked it up. Staring at the body, he knew the cleaver wasn’t going to work either. He would need to use the power saw. Water and blood flowed to the tables’ edge.
The body was fresh. The pink flesh and the open eyes were still soft and pliable. There was no evidence of bruising anywhere on the body. Yet, not all the blood had drained during preparation. He would have to wash the table again.
He pressed the start button on the bandsaw and expertly cut the ribs free from the spine. Perfect. His customers would be here very soon. Americans love their BBQ spareribs for the 4th of July and the meat counter at Kroger’s would be very busy today.
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