796 Reads | Published over 8 years ago
He called the beast “Bobby.”
If you asked him why, you’d of likely gotten a narrow-lipped bearing of teeth and eyes that no sane man would ever call… comfortable … as your reply.
The beast was Bobby. And that’s all there was to it.
And, you’d like to say that the crazy-eyed bastard at least tried to keep Bobby out of the city. You’d like to say it, but chances are you couldn’t without feeling dirty about the lie.
Because the fact was that hunting Bobby was an obsession with the man. And obsessed men rarely worry about the path that they take to get a thing done.
So, the bastard did his chasing.
Bobby did his running.
And the city that got in the way?
Well, they got a main street widened out considerably and given a new red color scheme.
… You could almost feel sorry for Bobby, truly you could.
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