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Hearts racing, beating like a heavy bass drum a hundred times a minute,
Sweat glistening as it falls slowly down my face,
pelleting the night sky-blue mat below like raindrops on the parking lot blacktop during a stormy night, the oil spills slowly washed away into the city gutters and the smell of ozone permeating the air.
I can hear my own breath, slowly consuming me,
in, out, in, out, in, out, in out, as it
a burst of lightning blazes up and down my spine,
hundreds of vultures screaming, eager for a meal.
My hair is matted down, slicked into a tangled mess
by his vicious strikes, my legs are weighed down by concrete bricks,
and I'm being pulled into the depths by this undeniable force...
HE IS A DEAD MAN.
Blood crawls like a dying man between my closed lips,
and once again, a match is struck, the flame lit,
and a bullet enters the chamber, released in a flash of light,
breaking the sound barrier with my razor-blade yell...
1...2...3...
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