Reunion

“Murderer!” they cried, and worse names still.

But he wasn’t, not at all; he was simply tying up loose ends. Soon it would be all over anyway, and then it wouldn’t matter what they called him.

Loose ends, like that boy who were now crying. This one wouldn’t need his help to fall; he would soon be dragged down by the memories that weren’t his.

…crying?

How peculiar.

No matter, there were more pressing things to attend to. Loose ends.

A little gift (death and calamity, nothing more, dear) and he was off, laughing all the way to the reunion.