Now they knew

Somewhere along the line, things have grown more and less crisp, the lines between black and white blurring into gray and then resolving so that I am standing, clearly, on the wrong side. It was easier when I worked alone. The take was smaller, but I attracted far less notice, and I did not have to worry about anyone second-guessing my motives.

It was easier, but it was far more lonely, and it wasn’t until I saw the poor boy’s expression when he found out who I’d been working for that it hit home.

They knew I was a thief.

Now they knew I was a murderer, as well.

About Catastrophe Jones

Wretched word-goblin with enough interests that they're not particularly awesome at any of them. Terrible self-esteem and yet prone to hilarious bouts of hubris. Full of the worst flavors of self-awareness. Owns far too many craft supplies. Will sing to you at the slightest provocation.
This entry was posted in Fiction, Flash and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Go ahead -- say something. Anything.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.