The course of his life had already been set
written on his soul as if chiseled in cold, hardstone
and that meant that the bodies would never quit coming.
He’d never be able to stop them.
Resigned to his fate, the man in the baseball cap paused only for a moment to look into thenight sky. The oppressive heat of summer had finally begun to taper off, but fall had not yetarrived. During this in-between time, reality seemed suspended somehow
not quite summer,not quite fall
and he felt nothing, neither anger nor pleasure, as he undertook his task.He simply pushed the limp, lifeless body onward to its final destination.It was what he must do.