Fort Street Murder Mystery

7 a.m.

You’re on a cement step, next to the church. You open your eyes.

You touch a crumpled picture of her in your pocket—the one that used to be framed on your desk. You pick up three Don Quixote bags and step into the mall.

The security guard watches you. The college student doesn’t see you. The bank employee ignores you. The tourist snaps a picture of you. The mother and child avoid you. The academic studies you.

You collapse onto the sidewalk next to Longs. You close your eyes. You won’t wake up tomorrow.

7 p.m.


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