A[U]CTOR

Garbage.

Crime

[Lola takes out the garbage.]

After so many days inside the house, coming out, even for this, has become an event. Every day the waste truck picks up the bags of the neighborhood, but within a week, Lola starts noticing that the garbage is gone but the smell remains. She wants to go and find out the reason, and then she remembers that the quarantine is still on.

"This stinks."

Obviously.

I saw Lola walk out of the house with a black plastic bag full of garbage with the usual waste of used toilet paper, crumpled paper and plastic bottles, torn cardboard used for cereal boxes, rotting meat and bloody tampons.

Disgusting.

Lola threw the first garbage bag followed, by another one, bigger than the last.

"Is your turn." Lola pointed out. I stand from the recliner, groaning. I go to my room to wear the face mask I made. A green cammo pattern with autumn leaves on it sewn with white elastic. I put it around my ears. The face mask was loose on the front so I pinned it with a paper clip to be firmly placed below my chin.

A quick glance in the mirror, and see that my face mask looks more like a green and black beak. I groan more annoyed this time before grabbing the plastic bag and removed the wooden lid. I doubt that any of the next door neighbors would use our dumpster any time soon.

I threw the other plastic bag and that was the end of it... until Lola started haranguing me a few days later.

I was not a happy camper that day.

"You vile, disgusting pig! You left the lid of the trash on the other side. You were supposed to-" and she yammered on and on and on about that lid.

That wooden lid was old and chipped on one of the sides, with long splitters sticking out on the edges. Is impressive that the garbage collectors haven't taken it with them by now.

Lola stormed out of the balcony before the yelling stopped.

"WHERE IS THE LID?!"

"The lid is on top of the dumpster, you dummy!" I yelled back.

"It's not there!" Lola told me.

I had to see this. There is no way that anyone in their right mind would take a rotting chunk of wood.

She wasn't kidding.

The lid was nowhere to be seen. Nor found. The dumpster still smelled terrible, Lola leaned to check if there were any other trash bags. The only bags I saw where plastic shopping bags. Though neither of us have a small plastic bag. The plastic bags we have are big and this one...

"Oh God! It smells terrible!" I yelled, pinching my nose. It smelled like something died in there.

Lola cut open the bag and shrieked.

I would have said that the cat is out of the bag, glad I never said it.

"Who would do such a thing?" Lola sobbed.

I see a dead stray cat inside, an old tabby. Half of its body was cut open with blood on his fur.

Nasty.

If our former neighbor were here to see this, she would either faint or cry unconsolably.

What kind of psycho would do such a thing?