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45. Lorenzo Snow

21st Century

New York

Fat tears roll down her cheeks as she registered the brutal side of humanity. She wanted to scream and bellow but the sound was ripped from her throat a long time ago. Now she just sat there, like a doll with inert eyes, looking at the bunch of strange men wearing drab tracksuits entering the mansion quietly, descending into her nest, like demons of the night. Her head was resting against the headset of a wheelchair and fingers were curled on the armrests pathetically. Only if she had the power to move. The woman couldn’t show her fear openly but her heart was ready to burst out of her chest, noting the men kneeling over the plush carpet and gently collecting the limp body of her husband with calculated precision. They lifted the unmoving frame and started to fold the same carpet around him.

She urinated, recalling how he achieved this fate.

Her son has done the dee

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