Wednesday, May 3, 2017

death in the rain - 12. blind

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part twelve of forty-four

ray trudged through the snow , a blind insensate thing with an indomitable primal lust for raw survival.

and because he did not like to be messed with or made a fool of.

that was the way it had always been with ray.

he was nothing. he knew he was nothing. he would always be nothing.

it was the same no matter how many times he had been born, how many new lives he started.

he would always be nothing, despised when he was not gnored.

but he was always determined to do one thing.

and that was to not take any grief from anybody.

who had murdered the girl, and put her body where ray would stumble over it, and get blamed for it?

ray wished he knew, but he knew he probably never would.

the diirty skunks, the dirty slimeballs and cowards!

ray kept going. he was almost halfway to the old factory.

he had been walking down a long straight road.

now he came to the old abandoned neighborhood surrounding the factories. a maze of narrow streets. but he knew his way in them, and through them.

he felt safer, not as naked, in the streets and alleys, where he could keep close to sides of the buildings.

he almost started to relax.

the snow continued to fall. but it seemed to be getting a bit warmer. maybe the show would turn to rain.

but then, suddenly, a figure emerged from one of the doorways.

ray stopped.

it was a girl. she looked like the dead girl he was carrying on his shoulder, but smaller.

and she was dressed the same, with the same cape like little red riding hood’s, except that it was really red this time.

maybe she was little red riding hood.

ray and the girl looked at each other through the swirling snow.

“what are you doing with my sister?” the girl asked.

ray didn’t know what to say. that was one of his problems - he never knew what to say.

finally he just said, “i didn’t kill her.”

to his surprise, the girl answered, “yes, i know you didn’t. but you did good, bringing her here.”

ray was stunned. it was the first time in all his lives that anybody had ever told him he had done good.

13. crime does not pay

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