Write down the first words that comes to mind when we say . . .
. . . home. = Switzerland
. . . soil. = Burial
. . . rain. = storm
Use those words in the title of your post.
The Burial in a Storm in Switzerland
“So what are we going to do now?”
“Now that is a good question.” Jakob rubbed his forehead, as he always did when he had a problem. Seth just looked on, but was sure they would find a solution.
It was not funny being over two thousand metres with a storm brewing and a dead body to dispose of. At least the earth was soft, so they would have no problems digging a grave. Seth even shed a few tears.
“What are you crying about, her time had come. She was old and we knew it could happen any day, we just hurried it up a bit.”
“But she was part of our lives Jakob. Admittedly she was laming a bit and could not do the work any more, but you did not have to shoot her.”
“Seth, that was the only solution. Of course I did not want to shoot the old girl, but it was a crime of compassion. To put her out of her pain and misery.”
The two men were looking down at the corpse laying on the earth. No movement, no breath from the dead, just a stare from her hollow lifeless eyes. Seth had a feeling that they would spring to life again, but he knew the dismal truth. Dead as a doornail, so they said. The two men had been living on the alp together for many years with their friend. They had braced many problems together, but this was something new.
“I think we should now do something” said Jakob. “The body will soon start to stiffen and then it will be finished with a move to the grave.”
“Jakob I have an idea.”
It was not often that Seth had ideas. He was known as the village idiot and thanks to Seth he had been rescued from the brutal actions of the village boys and had worked many years on the alp, cutting grass for the animals and producing cheese from the goats and cows. He was a hard worker, although the departed had also been a good help to both of them.
“OK Seth, what is the good idea?” although Jakob was sure that it was not a good idea.
“Instead of just burying her, we could perhaps sort of preserve her for a while.”
“Preserve her? Is that one of your weak jokes?”
“No, Jakob. I do not make jokes about the dead. Quite simple really. We preserve the goats by eating the cheese I make, preserve the cows by drinking their milk and so we could preserve her by making sausages from the remains. Or hang the meat up on the moutain side where the wind is eternally blowing. We have often eaten wind dried meat from the cows and that is very tasty. We have even dried the flesh of the chickens.”
“But I have never eaten meat from someone I knew Seth. It would be disrespectful.””
“No Jakob. Think of it like this. We would be preserving her and each bite would remind us how helpful she was when she was alive.”
Jakob though about it and decided it was not such a bad idea. It was approaching mid Winter. They had to eat from the reserves they had. They would be snowed in until Spring arrives and it would be a welcome change to their diet of cheese and milk. And so it was decided. Their faithfull donkey Hilda would be preserved and buried in the ice and then they would have meat enough until the Winter had passed. For once Seth had a good idea.