— [Untitled 2]
The summer before you left for war, all the neighborhood cats and dogs were poisoned. It was a hilarious joke orchestrated by some of your kid sister’s classmates. The neighborhood rats were poisoned as well, but no one mourned them. For a week, it was a ghost town, the corpses of stray pets and sewer mice dotting the sidewalks. The stench lingered longer, and the Archer twins and that Kleinman boy laughed and laughed, as the congregations of the town churches prayed and prayed — forever and ever amen — for the rain to come and wash the evil away.
Adam begat your grandfather who begat your father who begat you. You start building a boat.
— Vico
The phones are ringing. Your head is scrambling as your partner scrambles past you to the nearest exit. The whole precinct follows. All eyes squinting turn upward into skyscrapers and brightness. Hail Marys and Jesus Fucking Christs are murmured. Your captain – he weeps. Phantom blood slides down your face, and your hand almost reaches up to brush it away.
