He's smoking a cigarette and
drinking from his flask. watching me, muttering to himself.
I
insert the blade just above the sternum, twist and then rip. He likes to see
the heart of a thing before I do the rest of it. Carving trophies off of his
latest kill. The heart is warm in my hand. Its heat makes me sad.
“Boy, once
you taste the heart of something, there is nothing left to do.” Every time he
squishes those words from between his teeth, chewing, every time. I think I
hear a heartbeat in my ears
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