Friday 6 January 2012

The Killing Hand

Today, a man came into the station and pulled a gun on an officer. I apprehended him and told him I was taking him to jail; instead I blindfolded him and drove him to the forest.

On the way, he tried to scare me with tales of the so-called "impressive feats" he pulled out at sea. This only strengthened my desire to leave him for the shaggy-blonde man.

He tried to kick me away as we got out of the car, but I am no longer just a policewoman. You cannot run from a child of the trees. As I dragged his terrified body into the path where all leaves fall, I recognized him by his blonde hair and bloody mouth. He looked at me, and I knew.

He was the albatross.

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