One Man’s Hungry Revenge
He wore the guilt like a feather boa. Blithe plumage of debauchery draped around his neck. Undetected. Just like the bodies in his basement. His course was mute, and he tried to be angelic in his ways, but the beatings from his childhood days always surfaced through. He could not contain that ravenous hunger gifted to him by his step-fathers. His mother wore a whore-coat when he was little, and she smothered his eyes in its sleeves. Every night forced to hear her cries of crack-cocaine, calling different men’s names as though she enjoyed the displeasure. No wonder he ended up this way. Hunting down disdain assholes. The ones that beat children into submission and sell crack and women in the alley ways. He was skilled at what he did. No sleep was lost at night and he wore the guilt and loss of life like a feather boa.
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AuthorMolly Roland is a writer by nature, and she enjoys stepping over the invisible lines society loves to draw. Categories |