I started following a lady on Twitter who always says, “if you want to write, write”. So today I mustered up the courage to do just that. I don’t know if it makes sense or if I can or will develop this into something more meaningful, but this is what I have today.
Fear would be the death of them. A slow motion premeditated death. Murder they wrote. With every beat and every lie they became murders. They danced a tango that would end in a bloody Russian roulette. A death that would trickle down to their core, and would hurt most when they realized who they really were and that they were still alive meant to face the consequences of their irrational, irreversible actions.