The Sin-Eater ate the cake and honey on the dead man’s chest loudly; slopping, slurping, sacreligous. “You were lucky to have died when you did,” he chuckled, waving a filled fork at the corpse’s puffy face, “your wife’s cooking is truly sinful.”
He ate the dead man’s breakfast and ate the dead man’s sins; they added to the thousands of sins he had eaten from others and added to the sins he had earned himself. Already condemned and facing an eternity of undeserved torment, what difference did any personal sin make, any evil done by him, in the face of going hungry again?
The Sin-Eater patted the poison in his pocket as he turned his mind to dinner; he had heard that the blacksmith’s wife’s pastries were to kill for.
A quick Five Sentence Fiction story:
What it’s all about: Five Sentence Fiction is about packing a powerful punch in a tiny fist. Each week I will post a one word inspiration, then anyone wishing to participate will write a five sentence story based on the prompt word.
This week’s word: BREAKFAST
Click here to check out the other stories, and please let me know what you thought in the comments!