Neverland X |
A drink or four, then he trotted back home, his paces
tick-tacking at the command of his watch. He didn’t remember when he started
doing that or even when he started walking the less populated streets. At pace
400, he looked around and found a grin, one who would never grin again. He knew
the police was perplexed, struggling to catch him, but this was his day, his
routine, wearing some green, doing some drinking, some singing and, to help
with his headaches, some hunting. Fortunately for him, it worked. The last look
on their faces wasn’t as fortunate though…
that's scary Lizzie!
ReplyDeleteYep! I tend to bring dangerous and fatal consequences to my characters, in this case indirectly (those who die at the hands of an odd St. Patrick's celebratory routine). Thank you for your comment, Dondo. :)
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