The lucker who was a killer meets again with their allies, Sunshine and Jay. The two invited the individual because they did need a third pair of hands. This case was going to take a while.
https://peakd.com/fiction/@internutter/challenge-03986-j334-outsourcing-horror -- Anon Guest
Poetry. Art. Culture. Always held away from the more common throng. Always used as a means by which to point and laugh at those artificially held apart from the more valued media. Ridiculous, considering how often those prone to sneering simply use that art as tokens of exchange. It's why I memorised a lot of culture.
One such example has come to my mind in recent days. Late last night upon the stair/ I met a man who wasn't there/ He wasn't there again, today/ Oh how I wish he'd go away!
A silly rhyme for children... but lately? I'm the one who wasn't there. Like Odysseus, my name is Nobody, I come from Nowhere, and I am not here, or I was never there. I'm just lucky that way. And yet, despite all of that those two keep finding me.
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