Crab

I wandered sideways as a crab past windows ripe for smash and grab, when in my back I felt a stab of Stanley knife intrusion. Sharp between the shoulder blades, to widen eyes behind the shades, the pennies dropped in coin arcades and spun through my confusion. I held my breath and stooped a bit, as blood flowed from the gaping slit, a victim of a gangland hit I crumpled to the ground. My life unfurled before my eyes, a violent stream of truth and lies, a screaming, silent improvise that howled without a sound. He stood above me as I bled with rueful smile and shaking head, “It’s nothing personal,” he said and winked a lazy eye. My mind slid sideways like a crab, as I lay on the paving slab, my killer hailed a passing cab and left me there to die. A cold sensation filled my veins, a creeping darkness ate my brains, a nearby scent of sewer drains like perfume made in hell. I lived a life to my accord of evil deeds that ill afford, for if you must live by the sword there’s little more to tell...