Page 31
By Jack Joseph Smith
rifle leaning in the corner, aimed it at
the crack and blew the man's head off.
Terrified. Meant that he had with
woods purposely set himself into
the normal pattern of his day. seeking
simmering on the stove were the
redish mess of tomato and spice,
while he went through the front door
into the porch, and the sounds one
might here from his cabin kitchen
were the entrance of five men and
the blasts of bullets he received.
They
cased
the poor.
Not police;
themselves
as vigilantes
come for the
vengeance...