When the judgement came, it was harsh and absolute, utterly terrible in its finality.
They stopped by a stream on their journey to the mountains, for the sun was sinking over the horizon and dusk was fast approaching. The mules were untethered from the wagon and tied to a nearby tree. Maya began unpacking what they needed to make camp while her husband brushed down the horse and checked its hooves before sitting next to the fire with a grateful sigh.
Then it came, like a clap of thunder.
“Amadeo! Get up you lazy oaf, go catch us some fish!”