The widow retraces her step back to her house, the walls swaying in the wind. Semillante stands at the steps, howling at her master as the wind blows through her clotted fur. The hag traces her feeble fingernails along the hound's head, scratching lightly at her ear, yet she only stares blankly, the dog whines as it leans into her touch bringing nothing to her face. She draws her steps up to her porch, her fragile body leaning upon the teetering banister, before reaching the door, a slight yearning coming from the hatchway as she enters, the dog squeezing in behind her. She stares down an empty passageway, dust creeping along the edges of the floor. A rocking chair sits in front of the window, overlooking the hamlet where her son's killer lays. Yet the ordinarily, still chair lurches forwards, boots along wood as a staunch man stands up. Semillante barks a rageful torrent at the figure, tail tucked between her starved legs. Yet, the widow remains calm, she draws her son's Bodeo handgun from her coat, wrinkles tracing dead metal. She calls for Nicolas, death itself in her voice. She wanders towards him, fingers lining the trigger, the beast follows behind her, back arched as a low, horribe growl reverberates along her jowls. The woman makes a proposition, a game of Briscola, to decide their fates. Neighbors later reported a gunshot, emminating from the old hut, as the sun, hit the peak of the sky.
The widow's decision to get revenge through a simple game of Briscolla introduces the idea of revenge being unusual, less black and white than we take it, as it can be carried out in many different ways, with a variety of catalysts. Yet this is not the only thing introduced, as with the ending being open ended, it reveals that revenge doesn't end, feelings of hatred, anger, and grief do not go away after the fact.
