The Golden Song
The knife slipped. Blood sprayed. Hot. Bright. Carter wiped his hands on his trousers. The red smeared into the dark fabric. He did not look at the man on the floor. He looked at the wall. The plaster was cracked. A hairline fracture ran from the ceiling to the baseboard. It looked like a vein. The man was still breathing. A shallow rattle. Carter kicked him. The body moved. Then it stopped....
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