Queer masks - 1

Strange wind on the terraces tonight, folks...a strange wind indeed. It carries with it an air of wrongdoing and mystery along with the shrill notes of an old lady downstairs giving her first terrible flute-recital to her friends.

Such a buzz of activity, this place. So many people running about, to and from work, delivering things, riding back to their boring homes and boring families. So many people! When you look at it from high enough, it looks like a big bunch of lights lighting up a big bunch of people pretending to be busy. hmm.
Perspective, First thing you lose as you grow up.

Tonight is a special night though. Something happened tonight. Something finally happened.

It was while I was checking out one of the smaller streets earlier that I first saw him. Fishy looking guy. Carrying a knife. I can tell, you know. Years on the job. Slipped into a little side door. I followed, of course.
Up he went, to his little business. I found out soon enough that he was dealing. I hated dealers. Especially this kind. Selling wares. Human wares. on rent. ugh.
Slimy little pimping bastard. It didn't take long, what I had to do, which is why this little story to you readers tonight isn't going to be long.

In short course, I found each of his ladies, counted them at 6, and found their places of 'residence'. A short trip to the vault later I was ready. This was going to be fun.
I killed the guy, obviously. And made short work of, how do I put this nicely, packing him neatly into my trusty old trekking bag. After that it was the standard clean-up procedure for these sorts of things. Trip to my favourite disposal area, finding each of the poor ladies and handing them some cash, their freedoms and a little story to recite if ever asked any questions. About how watsisname had gone somewhere in the morning and never said anything to anybody.
No one would miss him anyway, who's going to ask? I also gave them my little pre-prepared speech about how they should go somewhere far away and find some jobs and trust no man. Most become maids. I've always wondered why. Pays the most I suppose and they get to bully people for a change.

Anyway, my dear readers. I'm going away to my little hideout, out in the open. Going away to my big disguise. The normal guy disguise. Just like superman, hah. Sleeps a little more than he should, according to most, but just a normal guy. No one close, no attachments, some friends I suppose, but just a normal guy.

Good night, dear fellows. I'm sleeping the sleep of the righteous tonight. I hope you sleep well too.

What time is it?

There is a time for introspection, there is a time for planning ahead and there is a time for dreaming. There is also a time for sitting the fuck down and doing what you have to do right now. I think the secret to doing well is knowing what the time is.