Just Right (Part 11)
Gretel: Two Strikes
After leaving the precinct, I walked. I walked to clear my head. I walked to release some of the anxiety I was feeling. I walked because I wasn’t ready to sleep. I needed a touch of home, of him, of what once was.
I never found comfort in sleep anyways. I trudged through the city streets, taking in the sounds of traffic, the smell of cheap meat being cooked by street vendors, and the not-so-fresh air, damp with rain, my conscience berating me with every step. These were times I didn’t like not having close friends, but what would I say to them anyways?
“Hey there, Besties, you know how I work on the dark side? Well, it’s starting to grow on me. In me. I’m losing faith in humanity. I don’t even know why I’m doing what I do. I almost murdered someone last night; good thing someone else came along and did the job for me. Thank God for small miracles, right? Oh, and I took a bunch of cash from a criminal, and he’ll probably kill me for it. I’m also banging said criminal in the hopes that he doesn’t slit my throat. By the way, I love that lasagna recipe. What wine…
