Ch. 67 – Good Things From All the Bad Things (8)

Final Fugue_Ithaka O._horizontal

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Then they burst. Gus Shevlin exploded.

He was everywhere, along with parts of all lives that had touched his, including the one hundred and seventy-six Carningsby murderers. But predominantly, he, the origin of the sin, had paid the price. His liver, his brain matter, and his bile had all vaporized. Tiny droplets of red hung on the spiderweb at the cocktail lounge, one small part of the fabric of the universe.

In the same space, Zach and Angeline existed. They, too, were droplets, glittering, in their most transformable state. No part of them had remained untouched by Shevlin, who had the right to stay at the hotel until his fair trial.

At the same time, Shevlin was nowhere. He was no more. There was no babyface to recognize him by. No mobster overcoat. No fedora. Not even the dagger.

That which had made him him had vanished. The man, who’d held on to his power and abused it to kill, rob, and torture, was gone.

The hotel revealed the opening again.

© 2022 Ithaka O.

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