Four long arduous days ago he’d walked out of his cell and fought a running battle to make it through the breached facility’s gates before the Mexican officials could lock the prison down again.
He was not a wanted fugitive. He was simply a lost boy. He was simply the long needed closure to a seventeen-year-old mystery.
"And see, see how close the Pratt guy stands to him. The body language is quite telling. Don’t you agree.”
“Fuck, I’d go absolutely bat shit crazy, totally bat shit maybe beyond bat shit crazy if I had to do that."
As the color crime scene photographs fell one onto another beneath his left thumb, he swallowed the bile rising in his throat.
The four-man team suited up and joked a bit with one another. Despite this air of joviality, the group did not take the coming shift of duty lightly. Theo, the team's thirty-six year old leader, carefully watched the men check and re-check their kits. Something awry with Kajetán’s, the squad’s youngest man, drew … Continue reading SANDOR
Dunnage You bear the world’s travails upon your bent back and like dunnage await the forks of fate to lift them away and end your suffering T.Moss/05_27_2018_5
“You need to see this, Erik. I can’t believe it, but it is what it is. A records request for a Rascal McDermott from an ortho doc in Selwig, Maine. It can’t be, can it? Can it?”
“Watch those sorry degenerates. They’re bad news.”