Strapped Ready To Go

Telling no one I dress for discreet the air is balmy, a good day for a killing I recognize the scent of lilacs Grandma is here now Your knife! My spirit guide reminds me. No problem. I can do this and well. My purse? No. It would be found right away. They don’t pat you down there do they? I am strapped now, ready to do Whatever it takes. Scent of cinnamon, Grandma’s sweet crust. I feel protected, take off on foot, wearing sneakers that sneak. What did he do? Grandma asks me. A soft whisper, in my head, but not my ear. I cannot do this right now. I push her away. There is always another side, she tells me. I cannot do this right now; I will her to leave. I know he is the one. I work myself up into a tirade. Leaping on him the second I can. He is being felled by the monster I became After my daughter disappeared. In my heart I know it was him. There is no mercy.