Sacrificing Scumbags at the Honey Altar
The thick, amber liquid swirled gently in the jar like congealed blood.
"This one's more expensive." My mother's voice was calm, devoid of emotion.
"It's all right," Crystal replied almost immediately as she frantically pulled out her wallet from her canvas bag, revealing a wad of new bills. "I don't lack money right now."
Her fingers moved steadily as she counted the money, her eyes fixed intently on the honey pot, as if it held the magic to grant her everything she could ever want.
Watching her turn and walk away, clutching the honey jar tightly while the hem of her skirt swept across the cobblestones, a question suddenly occurred to me. "Mom, if we get rid of all the bad men, what will ha
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