Story published in the JOURNAL MAN in July 2008
Previous Stories
THE END, FOR NOW (I)
MAY DIE OF COLD (II)
IN THE FOREST (III)
LRR LOCA ( IV)
NIGHT WAS A VERY STRANGE (V)
NADA MALO (VI)
a different life (VII)
ZIG ZAG (VIII)
SECOND
Sometimes it costs to police work hours, and no little imagination, to reconstruct something that happened in a second and, like many other things, might well not have happened before. Not everything fits, and he knew it. Many things just happen without any responsibility towards the order, or direction. Thieves pigs had died without knowing why, as they had killed those poor girls torn and carefully stored in the refrigerator, and he could die, if he did something to prevent it.
returned to gag. This had been the worst week of his life. He had been beaten, robbed, had in love with a woman he did not know he had seen dismembered bodies in a fridge, he had no choice but to care for a child who did not know that was an orphan and was about to have coffee with a murderer. Had also lost his car, and he was only a driver, and without his car and it was nothing. Sometimes, in a second, you lose it all goes wrong foot. She recalled feeling very well when he picked a woman, in town one day ago. His job was to drive people from one place to another, no questions asked, nor think too much. A people who usually did not care too much. Businessmen, tourists, old millionaire. He had been driving others all his life, no matter much where they were. Maybe that's why she had fallen in love on sight. I was tired of carrying any anywhere. Or maybe I was just dazzled by her beauty, she was a woman than a man like him would never have known otherwise.
was not the first time I wore a beautiful woman in his car, of course, but it was the first time she paid him some attention as well, not all the beautiful women are equal, and he was in love of this and not another, though he knew and he knew it hurt, he did not have the slightest chance with a woman.
Yet dreaming, because everyone has the right to imagine a better life than yours, a beautiful woman in his arms, a different name. But the time of the dream was over. The road that was caught was not the road that would have taken. The different life, I dreamed, this was not. He was guilty of a vaguely like a man feels guilty in the middle of their own nightmares. If there is any responsibility on our dreams, even among our nightmares, no one is ever completely innocent. Dreaming is not free.
got off the van and waited to come down the murderer. On the other side of the glass, in the cafeteria, she raised her hand to greet him, but he did not respond to the greeting. The woman beside her, she sensed that something was wrong. The man was late picking up something from the back of the van. When he finally came out, carrying a folded newspaper under his arm with something inside. Through the door of the cafeteria could see the tip of a large kitchen knife hidden evil among the pages of the newspaper.
walked together to the bar. The murderer just looked at the woman and the girl and he completely ignored. The girl tried to get up but the woman grabbed her by the wrist.
The waiter was not so smart.
Another beer?
Thanks. He said.
I'll have a coffee. He said the murderer, gently depositing the paper with the knife in, over the bar.
So you've been here before, you may want to spend so long.
Yes, I've been here before. I had an accident and took all morning trying to get out of here.
I would also be long gone. Replied the murderer.
The bartender poured the beer and turned to the coffee machine, his back to them.
Did not you have a gun? He asked.
The waiter turned back. I have a shotgun
two guns under the counter, said. Why do you ask?
Because this man has only a kitchen knife. He said, taking two steps backward. The murderer opened the newspaper and picked up the knife.
The woman stood up and took the girl's hand. Were very close to the door, but not given time to arrive. The murderer ran toward them with the knife. Despite being a large man was fast as hell. For when the waiter took out his shotgun, the murderer and held for breeding by the neck while approaching the edge of the knife to his right eye. Now we must think of this in stride, said the murderer, for starters let you that shotgun on the counter, if you please.
The waiter grabbed the shotgun to chest level, pointing to the murderer and the girl, not knowing what to do.
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