Through An Echo, Faintly

You may blame the devil for your gifts but that does not give you excuse to just stop. You are capable of doing what good men can’t, and you can do it well. You can redeem yourself when you are done. We have work to do for God sake.

So, in the dispatching of trash, you happened upon a woman. She awoke and started to scream and you, quite naturally, took your knife and slit her throat end to end. You couldn’t just let her scream, neighbors would hear and call the police. Then prison and every noble deed you had done would be made worthless in your absence.

Despite you being in the right, you called the cops, and you’re still in that crappy apartment sitting at the foot of their bed. You’ve got a wireless phone in one hand and the bloody knife in the other. When they come in, you’re going down. That’s called suicide by cop and you ain’t the first coward to think of it.

You had a moment of weakness, it happens. You can’t let it ruin you. Do you really think no one else has ever gotten scared when they look in the mirror? All great men have regrets. Got news for you; coulda, shoulda, woulda is pretty god damn universal among people. Yours is an absolute good, even if you are a raving mad vigilante. You can’t let this silly moment of regret cripple you, you have to run.

You gave them the wrong address you sly dog, we still have time but you have to get up. Think about all the innocent people you saved from evil hands. Think of all the scum you’ve killed. Didn’t that feel like you were doing something? Don’t you like that feeling? This woman lies with evil men, she gave him comfort. She deserved this, she is as guilty as he,

Damn it Dennis, it can’t end here. There coming, move.

We had so much work left and you through it all away. I hope your happy.


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