By David Halliday

“Down below in the long grass the crickets were too loud. Two teeth shone like nuggets in the dirt. The headlights from the Jaguar crawled across a young woman who lay naked except for the bra around her neck. Blood ran out of each corner of her mouth giving the impression of a smile. A clown’s smile. A tear running over her cheek. Her eyes were closed. Her hands were bound behind her. There were teeth marks on her neck. Her legs were spread apart. There were scratches along her inner thighs, which were quivering spasmodically. Off to the side in the darkness someone was sitting on their haunches, whimpering. Why’d you make me do it? “ Life was unfair. That's what everyone thought. Each in his own story. Stories that needed to be told. A man was going mad. We all know someone like that. Sad. A son has lost his mother, a husband his wife. . The routine of tragedy. A priest was having a spiritual crisis. A kid thought God was out to get him. A marriage breaks up. That's what the Six Points area was like. And then there was something else. Someone else. The invisible man.