Edward Austin Hall
“Did you think I’d wait to be murdered? You asked for this. Your death threat stole from my best work. My bay photo! ‘Wish you were here’ hand-lettered above an X on the watery part? Plagiarist! You deserve killing.”
He shoves me—bound—over the bridge rail. Earlier that day, as the mailbox again swallowed my postcard, I imagined the ripples I would soon spawn. He’ll get home before it does. And like he said, he deserves killing. Endlessly.