Not much to say about this one...just an allegorical "unseen monster" sort of tale I suppose.
THEY-WHO-DO-NOT-EXIST
Reading,
Pennsylvania and its inhabitants cannot be seen with the naked eye;
they must face each harsh morning using only the sense of smell.
Those with leather wallets and a bloodhound's nose are fortunate
enough to pay the landlord most months. The town's sense of sound is
also keen, but the screams that pervade the night are typically
ignored, drowned out by the shared crunch of day-old bread, the
pressure of liquor's languor.
Within
the city limits lays an invisible beast that bellows: a roaring lion
with claw and tooth ravaging the potential of youth, claiming more
victims than can be counted by the Census Bureau. It never crosses
the Penn Street Bridge for fear of being discovered. The monster
punishes the locals for their poverty, dips into its own till, traps
itself within.
A
glass bottle transforms from comfort to weapon.
A
gunshot echoes at 5th
and Penn.
Again.
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