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359. Shell of a Man
~ CASIMIR ~
I stood in the cell of Jesse’s father, nose wrinkled against the stench of a man who had given up on caring for himself, and shook my head.
I wanted to shake him.
He lay in the cot, dirty sheets, dirty blankets, dirty clothes, dirty man, and stared at the wall. I would almost have had compassion for him. But then he opened his mouth.
“Never saw it…” he murmured. “Let myself get distracted by the fucking boys. She was the prize all along, and now…”
He began to weep quietly and I snorted the air from my nose.
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