and the snow has been coming down for hours now without much activity outside, no plows to disturb it's pure, pristine, unadulterated white beauty. A car here and there but for the most part it seems everyone is safe at home in this neighborhood and has been all night. The only footprints I see when I turn around are my own and as I look down the road nothing has managed to disrupt the coat of white crystals blanketing the sidewalk, the lawns, driveways, walkways. Every few minutes the sound of an automobile in the distance on a main road somewhere breaks through the silence and as the wind picks up somebodies outdoor windchimes clank clank jangle and it sounds appropriately serene. As I trudge on further the air bites at the tip of my nose and somebodies automatic light flicks on from their front porch as I pass, illuminating the snow and reflecting onto me, glaring at me like some sort of pre-interrogation spotlight being shoved in my face by an omnipotent all knowing god not powerful enough to actually intervene any more than it's pitiful attempt at a scare tactic. Good god/bad god. A dog barks as I pass the next house and I keep walking with my head down. I pick up my pace and do my best jog through the eight or so inches of snow all around my ankles as the anxiousness sets in. Not so much nervousness as excitement and anticipation.
As I reach my destination I pat my black goose down coat to make sure the burgundy Burlwood Buck Akonua limited edition 9 and 3/4 inch knife is still in it's leather sheath and still in my inside pocket and it is. Her snow covered car, a 1991 navy blue Mercury Grand Marquis, inherited when her father died, is the only one in the driveway and the only light on comes from a television flickering in her bedroom upstairs through the closed blinds. Standing on the porch now I wonder if she is asleep but as I open the storm door and lift my leg to kick the door in with one swift blow I grip my limited edition burgundy handled Burlwood Buck Akonua deer hunting knife and turn around to look at the virgin snow, my footprints already starting to fill in, as I picture what her blood will look like sprayed all over the pure whiteness of it all.
As I reach my destination I pat my black goose down coat to make sure the burgundy Burlwood Buck Akonua limited edition 9 and 3/4 inch knife is still in it's leather sheath and still in my inside pocket and it is. Her snow covered car, a 1991 navy blue Mercury Grand Marquis, inherited when her father died, is the only one in the driveway and the only light on comes from a television flickering in her bedroom upstairs through the closed blinds. Standing on the porch now I wonder if she is asleep but as I open the storm door and lift my leg to kick the door in with one swift blow I grip my limited edition burgundy handled Burlwood Buck Akonua deer hunting knife and turn around to look at the virgin snow, my footprints already starting to fill in, as I picture what her blood will look like sprayed all over the pure whiteness of it all.
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