Grasp

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I walk across grass fields, my hands deep in my pockets, boots filling with water.  No moon tonight, just stars peeking from behind the pollution of a dismal town.  This bare space of green darkens in the glare of the sprawl nearby; a shy lover shrinking away from foul breath.  I look around and realise I am invisible, but I can see everything.

The woods loom up ahead, uncertain, so I sit on a nearby dead tree and don’t disturb further.  Sticks snap and trunks creak, in the background the static hum of a pointless conveyor belt – cars and drunks.  I’m shivering.  I wrap my scarf tighter to my neck and carry on.

I climb the hill and look over my shoulder as the town glows fetid below.  I never really felt a connection to it and now I never shall.  I’ll forever be Other.  I’ll always be Something Else.  The footpath tiptoes out between tall concrete walls.  I find a dark gap, and wait.

The Man approaches, humming a song to himself.  He’s wearing headphones, the white cord glowing.  As he approaches the gap I emerge calmly from the shadows, jamming the knife under his ribs, pushing him against the wall.  We scratch our boots across loose gravel.  He threatens to cry out, but doesn’t.

I look into his eyes as they throb and pulse, pulling the hilt up to cut deeper.  My wrist is warm.  He will never hurt you anymore.  Like a dying candle, his eyes fade.

 

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