mys(t)ery

he stood silently
the rain falling
in great fat drops
he was soaked through
yet
took no notice of it
he stared up
at the neon buildings
every window
had a thousand stories to tell
but he only cared
about one of them
he just hadn’t found it yet
it called to him
in his dreams
there was a body
to be found
a killer to hunt
unfortunately
the body
he knew
was his own

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