In
Peter Kurten, the Dusseldorf sadist, the sexual impulse and the urge
to violence had become interdependent...When Kurten returned to
Dusseldorf—after a long prison sentence—there was a red sunset,
and he saw it as an auspicious sign for the reign of terror he was
about to inaugurate.
—Colin
Wilson, in Order of Assassins
The sky is streaked with rust, there is a smell of coming rain; you spent the last
five days living in a shelter. There's a pebble in your shoe and you leave it there.
You're
wearing an army jacket and pants that had once been black. The wingtips someone left as a donation; shoes, from a world of secret handshakes, cool blonds and silk green lawns. A world that says, "I hate to say...", before it says what it really means.
The
sky is dusty red, it's your fifth day at the shelter. Five days is
all you get. Whatever happens now is up to you.
You're
sitting on a bench and there's a pebble in your shoe. A woman, with a child in tow, walks by.
A boy, soft as a baby's kiss. He looks at you with
longing. You take the pebble out and fall in step behind them.
You
need someone unbroken, who doesn't understand.
You need to be invisible and tender.
The
smell of coming rain and the sky is burning red; whatever
happens now is up to you.