One
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.