Jason considers his prey inside, all sipping iced lattes and scarfing down pricy treats. Every one of them insulated from pain.
They are the users - he and his class are the used.
They need teaching.
Friday Flash Fiction |
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Jason leans his shoulders against the café’s brick wall. The sun has yet to crest the tall building across the street, but the moist stillness of morning air, and Jason’s desire to kill, leave him dripping sweat. Yanking the thin cotton cloth of his “wife beater” undershirt up over his shaved head, then slowly dragging it down his heavily tattooed face gives little relief.
Jason considers his prey inside, all sipping iced lattes and scarfing down pricy treats. Every one of them insulated from pain. They are the users - he and his class are the used. They need teaching.
Yvonne Morris
29/4/2022 08:35:03 pm
Chilling!
Sue Clayton
30/4/2022 04:08:14 am
Disturbingly brutal. Comments are closed.
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"Classic"
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