Trails of braided light
run down my trembling body, carrying the dried blood off of my face like a river carries loose stones down stream. A faint metallic scent rises through the steamy air.
No amount of soap and water will wash the memory away...
I nearly took that girls head off.
If it wasn't for Jack,
I would have turned
everyone in that cafe.
Such a mess.
Thankfully, Jack knows his way around cameras.
Witnesses too.
I don't ask - but sometimes I wonder, which one of us is the real monster.