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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2266953-The-Edge-of-Lost-WC-368
Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Dark · #2266953
The Writer's Cramp 2/8/22 W/C 368


New Prompt, due Feb 8 - 2022:

Choose a book, go to page 22 and choose the third line on top of the page. Pick out of that line three words.
Book: The Edge of Lost
Page 22 3rd line: into a shameful life of sin. A temptation as poisonous as eve with


The Edge of Lost

I am alone in this city. Alone but not frightened, because I’m not alone for long. Someone is waiting for me. He messaged me just the other day. We’ll meet tonight.

Diarmuid only reaches out when he needs something. I never know what that might be, could be, will be, until we meet. It could be something as minor as a book or as major as a life.

“Are you coming?” He is ready.

“I will come. Tell me where.”

A text arrives, the map to the location. I know it well. Only a few miles from my room, I can walk there easily enough. No sense linking a cab or Uber to my history tonight. The night is calm, stars are bright. I’ll enjoy this walk.

Halfway to the destination my wandering is interrupted.

“Stop it right there.” An imposing man stood in front of me, blocking my path. He held a knife to my stomach, which I quickly deflected, kicking it to the ground.

“No, you stop it.” I’ve met this person so many times. “Gursed, known as Cursed, Dalk. You will stop trying to kill me.”

Cursed picked up the knife, held it with both hands. “I will not stop until you are dead. Some day, Ciro. Some night. You will pay for a shameful life. I will have my vengeance.” The knife now shone in a car’s passing headlight. Then he strode off into the shadows.

I spat on the shadow he left, continued my journey. Diarmuid’s map led me to a small house, porch light lit. Quite the suburban flair. My hand stops before I knock as the door opens. Diarmuid answers the door, ushers me in.

“Long time, Ciro. Did Gursed Dalk stop you on your way?”

“You know he did, because you sent him. We play our little game. We talk, he leaves. What do you need this time?”

“I need for you to leave.” He stared at me. Those eyes dared me to look away.

“Leave? I just got here.” I chuckled just a bit.

“Gursed is correct. Tonight you will pay for a shameful life.”

That blade was razor sharp. I hardly felt it.

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2266953-The-Edge-of-Lost-WC-368