The October morning broke bright and sunny. A perfect fall day in the Northeast. The Jamison family was, as usual, scurrying around the house with kids getting ready for school bumping into adults getting ready for work. All in all just a typical morning in Paradise Heights… until it wasn’t.
They say the wolf ate the magician.
They find the man lying on the stone floor, chunks of his flesh unfurled around him like oversized rose petals, torn apart by thorny fangs. Broken bottles litter the shelves of his home, caught in liquid pools of strange colors that hiss and spread like angry tears. Tattered black books pattern the floor, spines up and pages squashed, sprawled open like dead crows.
Here we are at week 249.
This is a special posting as tomorrow on the 17th, we have been going for five years.
We have a few bits and bobs that we want to do so I’ll get this weeks stories out the way first.
Quan falls into the patient breakfast line at the hospital for the criminally insane, he peers at the kitchen staff through pushed in black glasses, grips his tray in both hands, nose sniffing right over its plastic surface, checking to perceive odors and blemishes. He mentally calculates the time distance between himself and the food. “Maybe ninety-eight and a half seconds.”
He promised to keep me safe.
A promise that turned out to be total and complete bullshit. Brent also vowed to be faithful, stick around in sickness and health and a bunch of other things that went by the wayside the moment he decided to tell me about his ridiculous, “mid-life crisis” indiscretion.
I know superhero stories are way over done these days and you are looking for new angles, but please don’t point your camera lens in this direction. I am just that guy’s sidekick. Strictly off the record and never to be quoted. Standing to the periphery, sans a speaking role, smiling and happy the blinding spotlight never shines here. The glint off the bleached and veneered teeth of my rich alcoholic narcissist boss is enough to blind even the most skeptical of fans to his deep narrative flaws. Sure, some might say he’s a vigilante. For others he is The Bad Guy, but aren’t we all sometimes? I’m just happy to help and not bothered by your narrow good to evil spectrum.