Half Love

Silver rainsickles hammered down like the javelins of some demented god. I flipped him the finger, sat down on the grass and opened my book.

*    *    *

“He appears to be stationary. More accurately, he’s just sitting there. Some kind of pamphlet in his mitts. A ruck-sack. He appears weather-beaten. Deafiant though. Damned defiant. And no beard growth at all. Just recieved a text: apparently he smells of freshly landered linen. The bars are melting. His time has come. Taking something from his pocket now. A cigarette lighter it would appear.”

*    *    *

Dear Sir or Madam,

The body was found a few minutes walk from the beach house. We believe this was his intended destination. Although no banned machinery was found we decided to err on the side of caution and take the target down.

*    *    *

She took the letter and tried to cut herself with its perfect edge.

*    *    *

The paper felt her moist, rich warmth. Then the flames licked it black and, finally, to ash.


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