The Ritual

No woman had desired him so much — desired him dead.

He needed to find the place inside himself that led to the smashings, the snappings, the middle fingers at drivers who did not stop for pedestrians on crossings, the grindings of his teeth to sand when he could not sleep and thought of the sociopaths he had worked with.

She says, what was once given, is missing. One will come to fetch it back.’

He wondered how it would feel to die. Maybe just darkness came after.

There was simply no preparation in life for the determined madness of others.

Security would be tightened, grudges had formed, faces would have to be saved, revenge needed to be taken. Inevitable, predictable, childish; the consequences of being human.

Nor did they exude its unnatural presence that infiltrated dreams. It.

Because wolves and devils and fire are to be feared when they are on the wild hunt.’

There’s more blood in the head than anywhere else in the body. I think. Which is why head injuries look worse.’

When we’re frightened and hurt are we ever anything else?