51 – Painkillers

How old was she? Thirteen? Fourteen? He didn’t really want to know. The amber liquid in the tumbler stared back at him with a mixture of pity and remorse.

• • •

42 – Numbers

The lines scroll swiftly down the dark ice mirror in my hand. I scan them for the telltale tracks of my prey. He’s good, I have to admit it. He appears to have left no trace, but I know better.

• • •
1 49 50 51 52 53 56