Sunday, September 28, 2008


You're drunk, and the cold feels like something else, as you stagger out of her basement apartment, barefooted and bloodied. "Damn it", you think, "she should have listened when I told her to keep her mouth shut."

The book in your hand is already falling apart, but you do your best to keep the pages from scattering in the wind. "Just once more", you tell yourself for the seventh time now, when behind you, just a bit to your left you hear the click.

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