Chapter Forty Seven
Every hurricane has its eye and now as the world seemed to be spinning off of its axis everyone involved, killers, artists, cops the depraved and ex whores seemed happy, sad, frustrated and elated, and for the moment calm was within that small orb.
Even those that brutally kill the young, the hapless and others, a time of rest and further thoughts on the matter must gather in their brains. For the murderer of the dispossessed, that time had come, for he was a very smart man and needed no reminder of the fact that there was a new presence on the streets, one he felt sure was aiming their guns directly at him.
Mal had and perhaps still was that kind of man, he simply did not know any longer, nor did he care.
Manic, he was focused on the present he was creating from no
