Saturday, March 26 “I turned the corner at Orzechówka Street, and crept like a rat between the shadows, watching for any movement up ahead, my hand firmly clasped around my strzelbą dwururka. You could have cut the smog with a stainless steel carving knife—but at least the damp air muffled the passage of my iron-toed leather boots. Swish, swish, swish they went, as I moved slowly and carefully from doorway to doorway, waiting for the bullet that never came. “We were two hunters stalking our prey—one another—with an intensity that belied the coldness of the silent war we fought—just two hunters bent upon the destruction of the living symbol of a political system, one red, the other red, white, and blue. Which swatch would survive unstitched remained to be seen. “‘Blat,’ I heard, and instinctively ducked—not that it would have done me much good—as a chip of pink brick scoured a furrow up one cheek. I wiped the blood away.
What do You think about The Paperback Show Murders?
