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The Dead Don’t Lie

By Bridget Squires

Smashwords edition

This is the second of “The Dead Don’t…” series. Please leave a review and let me know what you think! Hope you enjoy!


The beer was cold and frothy, perfect for an autumn evening. The cover of darkness was quickly approaching which made one appreciate the anonymity it would create. Faces are difficult to make out at dusk shortly before the lights of the city restore the luminous quality that day provides. Faces appeared jumbled, shadowed just so, hidden almost. The distinct features could not be exactly defined, the main parts were there but the key identifiers like scars, freckles and such would be impossible to make out. This time of the day was splendid. It allows predators to stalk the prey, like an owl surveying for mice to capture and carry away. The crowd, like mindless hordes, made their ways through the streets, all destined to arrive somewhere at sometime. It was this rat race that was sickening to most, those who saw it for all of its absurdity. Coming and going, going and coming, never realizing that at any second it could simply come to an end.

The terraces of restaurants were perfect venues to watch this daily migration, to relish in the ideas that each and every one of these citizens could be brought to halt with so much as a member slowing down. Women are far more interesting than men to observe, oh yes very much so. Every one of them would correct little things about themselves as they moved. One had to look closely but it was easy to see when you knew what to look for. The ruffle of the hair, the adjustment of a skirt, smoothing a top or even the smearing of stray lipstick. These little adjustments made that particular woman feel complete, better about herself at the moment. Such remarkable creature’s women were. Loving, caring, trusting women. Trusting was the best part about most women. With men one needs facts, proof that something is what one says. But women? Well one could come up with almost any story and if it sounded convincing enough the most naïve would accept the knowledge without question. But at this moment concentration was vital. No time to lose one’s self in thought.

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