Jimsonweed whipped at my legs as I ran through the treacherous fields. I could hear him yelling behind me, stumbling over the hidden pits and snares. We had been playing this never-ending game of cat-and-mouse for several years; however, this would be the end of senselessness. No more pleasantries. No more silence. No more running around trying to not be killed. No, today I wouldn’t miss the boat to victory like my leaders had. They had faced this man head on when I was just a child. I saw him slit their throats without a second thought. They tried to reason with the devil, but I knew only bringing hell would ever stop someone from the depths of darkness. I would become the predator with my minefield of traps beneath the foliage of red and green. The murderer would be the one slain tonight. The moon would put a spotlight on my heroism. The storm clouds would applaud my bravery. The grass would bow in respect. I ran into the abandoned warehouse that crumpled beneath the weight of years
Each morning a tale freshly brewed for you.