The night the Rhymer went whack

52

Whereas truth is reality, it isn’t always pleasant.

Stunned with disbelief Sharissa stood silently, mouth agape and tears streaming down her cheeks. Horrified as Straffe stood up, hoping that this truth would set him free. He waited for her response as if her dismay wasn’t evident to this harrowing tale of events.

Then she remembered.

It wasn’t the first time he had done this. It was constant and began as soon as she entered the compound. She recalled it all, standing there numb in the moment. She snapped back and thought of her son, the long sloping nose, close together eyes, thinning hair, his ears. She looked at Straffe, seeing those traits too. “Leave,” she said to him, too weak to yell as she gestured toward the door. “Leave,” she mustered from deep within finding the strength to shout, proving her seriousness. She did this, not caring that his wounds were not yet healed and knowing she was sending him to a most certain death on those mean streets.