Again, this beginning of a piece of fiction was written on the allocated day, but I am only getting around to publishing now.
There is no time for riddles. Even if there was, I have no patience for them. A murder has been committed. We know the culprit. We know the outcome. That is what the believer of natural order requires. The human requires reasons, explanations, long, drawn-out extrapolations of the facts. So, natural law requires a clean shot to the head. Result, removal of the threat, grief, certainly, but, ultimately, closure.
Human law puts the safety on the trigger and, quite often, empties the cylinder before the gun can reach your hand. We have evolved in a search for answers and we continue to claw at the mud for them. “Why” becomes so irrelevant when the act is over, but these are the states of things. I have to ask, and ask as though it matters.