Posted on April 9, 2009 at 7:27am
Gloom, like a twisted, suffocating blanket, was draped over the bleak sunset glow, muffling the light and beauty like the an eternal layer of smog. A sick injustice had been done and could never be reversed.
To hunt, simply to survive; he was shot for it. Even if he had been hunting geese in the city--Who cared for them anyway?--there was no justification for the police to seek.
Bob the goose slayer was dead, and his fellow hoboes would have their revenge...