Sangria on the Beach *S.

 

 

I was wronged by two men who’s name I consider so foul at this point
that I will not again utter them here; they will simply be known
as Paul and Johnathon, and I would have my revenge.

I stalked Johnathon for the better part of an hour, waiting for him to get
off of work, he is a security guard, did I not mention?

As he walked towards his vehicle, I snuck upon him as stealthily
as a ghost in the harvest moon light. I clubbed him first on his right knee,
bringing him down; and then against the temple to render him unconscious.
Next, I held a piece if plastic across his face to take away his air. Soon he
was dead and half of my revenge was complete.

——————-One Month Later———————————-

I stalked Paul much as I had stalked Johnathon. Paul, however, did not
by any means deserve a quick death. I stabbed him twenty three times-
much as Brutus and Cassius had stabbed Julius Ceaser in ancient Rome.
I ran across the street and took off my mask once the task was complete.
Revenge was complete.
Dare not another to cross my path.
I now sit several thousand miles away on a beach, sipping sangria with
vodka. A woman sits next to me whose name I do not know, for she does not
speak any language that I’ve ever heard of. We get along fantastically

 

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