The City is dark at night - and there is little dusk or dawn, it merges into night from day almost instantly, the stars blazing their cryptic message above, the moon looking down in laughter at it.
It is always best not to look at what you pass in the city, in the streets - some things look back. Today, though, I violated that cardinal rule, and looked at a dead body, lying in the street, surrounded by a puddle of blood and guts, laughing up at the sky - and so I ran back to my home, to safety, trying not to hear the dark padding behind me, the slipping of feet upon viscera.
Gone.
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