Nightfall quietly descended.
During this time that was supposed to be busy, old Abel did nothing all day for a rare moment, just sitting silently at home, as if winter hadn't ended, waiting for a spring that seemed never to come.
Thinking it over, things weren't that bad.
He convinced himself, watching his children fall asleep one by one, including his wife who had cried enough, until the entire household was quiet.
Time slipped by second by second, unable to sleep, he eventually crawled out of bed, rubbing his frozen fingers, he stepped outside to the field he had faced since birth, wandering aimlessly, not knowing what to do, nor where to go.
At this moment, a sound came from the distant farmhouse. He walked over instinctively, forgetting to bring his pitchfork and failing to wake the sleeping neighbors.
The wooden door creaked open.
No surprises, three small demons were lying on the beet bucket, feasting with loud munching sounds.
"Oh oh oh!"
"This tastes really good!"
