Broken glass crunched underfoot. Good people sleep while I roam, peeking in windows. Searching. Sniffing down her scent. Black leather gloves, shiny with age, stretched over hardened hands and a gleaming silver sappara is all the better for slitting throats, dear. Knife-points stars cruelly cut through an ocher bruised sky, lighting paths through darkness.
But which to choose? This house? That one, where Kindertoys lay strewn about like Hugo’s aftermath? Complications. Decisions. Life’s full of them. Creation? No, thanks. Destruction’s my job. Seek out sinners. End it. Michael assigns cases, Gabriel –that’s me- takes care of business, doing God’s work.
Winged Assassin
by K. Hutson Price
2 comments:
Have you read Neil Gaiman's story "Murder Mysteries"? If you haven't, you would definitely find it interesting - it belongs in the same ideological space which you're exploring.
(It's in his short story collection "Smoke and Mirrors" or there's a stand-alone graphic novel version too. I find new things in it whenever I re-read it.)
That was addressed to the writer of the piece, not Lisa. Obviously.
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