he forgot his bloody knife by marvinnet.

Like a suckling child he felt the warmth and saw his mother’s smile. The swirl of unconsciousness oozed in his mind. As his surroundings blurred into the groping darkness of the alley the syringe fell to the ground; a missile striking its death blow. In a fog of ill-gotten recognition his courage grew; courage to reach for an unknown peace. Rambling thoughts swirled in a gothic symphony; no more pain; no more disappointment; no more failure. The curtain closed in a tremulous fade to black as the warmth of his blood fell to the ground as he opened his veins.

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