The three of them stood in the field and stared at the cow lying in the grass. Her husband had told her not to look. The old man had concurred. But the old man had shot the cow, so he was not to be trusted.
“My wife is inside and she’s dying,” the old man said.
“That’s not the cow’s fault,” she said.
“It was either me or the cow,” the old man replied.
The cow’s head jerked with a snort. Blood sprayed from its nose onto her husband’s pants.
She waited for her husband to react, but he didn’t.