English Version: Sands & Sparrow

10

At 6 a.m., Margo rose from her sleep and proceeded to the bathroom. After a refreshing shower, she inserted her contact lenses and applied a tanned cream to her face. Dressed in an electrician's uniform, she meticulously set her watch, emphasizing the need to complete the job precisely by 8 a.m. Rummaging through Salvador's car, she retrieved the girl's pants and silently dressed her while she slept. Searching for the stripper's shoes, she hesitated upon seeing them stained with blood. Recalling something, Margo hurriedly moved to the area right next to the van, retrieving a specific object. She washed it in a sink and used a towel to dry it.

Seated on the bed, Margo held a pair of sophisticated, high-end shoes with leather skins and soft soles. Speaking softly, she said, "It will suit you," and delicately placed the shoes on the sleeping stripper's feet. The shoes were a perfect fit. It was unusual for Margo to acquire random items, but for reasons unexplained, she chose to take the shoes she had spotted in a rice field while waiting for a call at the rest house.

In the serene room, Margo observed the girl, her peaceful slumber undisturbed. "I'll keep your old shoes," she murmured, covering her with a gentle blanket before quietly departing. The looming task awaited her in the garage – fixing Salvador. Fixing meant reclaiming something from him. Swiftly, Margo adorned herself in an apron, surgical mask, and white elastic gloves, ready to confront the aftermath of her actions.

As she opened the compartment, Salvador's body lay stiff, drained of life. Placing him on a blanket, Margo's face contorted with regret over the bullet she had planted in his head. The cadaver, rigid and soaked in nearly-dried blood, emanated the unmistakable scent of a butcher shop.

Sighing heavily, Margo gripped the forceps, acknowledging the unpleasant task ahead. "I can't believe I have to pull it. I like planting bullets," she expressed, a mix of disappointment and self-reproach in her voice. Extracting the bullet, she encountered chunks of slimy substance, sticky and slippery. Nausea overcame her as yellowish bile dripped from the bullet holes. "Ummmhhhpp..." Margo mustered her strength, muttering, "You're a hard-headed," and persevered until she finally succeeded.

The next task on Margo's agenda was to conceal Salvador's body once more within the compartment. Shedding her gloves and apron, she incinerated the remnants, leaving no traces behind. Time was of the essence, and with fifteen minutes remaining to complete her mission, Margo revved her motorcycle, speeding to the market for a crucial purchase – fresh blood from the butcher shop.

Armed with her supplies, she swiftly returned home, changing the car's license plate for an added layer of security. Margo then ventured to the Van, armed with a modern rifle and explosives. A wry half-smirk crossed her face as she observed a long ladder affixed to the Van's exterior.

Checking her watch, Margo noted two hours until the culmination of her intricate plan. Executing the final step, she entered the room, hoisting the stripper into the Van. With a calculated move, she drove and towed Salvador's car, leaving the house behind, a satisfaction-laden smirk etched on her face.

As the sun ascended from the horizon, casting its warm embrace, Margo guided the Van to its destination. Sensing the morning's gentle warmth, she slowed down and halted, fetching a wooden barricade to obstruct the entrance. Swiftly, she reinstated the original license plate on Salvador's car.

Surveying the surroundings, Margo noticed a small cliff at the end of the road. Opting for a narrow path enveloped by trees, she initiated a strategic maneuver. Adjusting the steering wheel, she secured the gas pedal with a heavy rock. Salvador's car catapulted down the road, hurtling toward the cliff. The impact unfolded with a cacophony of destruction – coconut trees crumbled like dominos, and one slammed into the car's front hood, shattering the windshield.