Too Old for This

by Samantha Downing

I wake up with a bit of regret. And I don’t use that term lightly, because regret is one of the most insidious things out there. Arthritis is a close second.

The aftermath of killing Plum Dixon has grown into a giant, slimy squid. All those tentacles make it so difficult to contain. Listen to me, getting poetic in my old age.

I can’t murder my way out of this mess.

Murder has become exhausting.