'I'm at the end of my rope'she saysand I'm inclinedto believe her.I can't help but bring to mindimages of noosesand career criminalsof bygone eras,their pasts at last caughtup with them,all that running over,the crowd that's gatheredto witness their executionsurprisedby their calm demeanour,surprised by theircomplete lackof agitation.But is it reallysuch a shock,that these characterslook upon their deathas they'd look uponany other incident,any other inevitabilityof life.
'I'm at the end of my rope,'she says,and I nod.
About the Creator
Liam Bates
Painful to write, painful to read.
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Tour Guide
Find me on the peripheryof that central square,where pigeons swarmfor scraps of food andlarge, air-conditionedbuses from the airportdump their squinting andsweating passengersinto the hot, yellow light.I'm trying to carve out a nicheas a depressed tour guide:entirely unenthusiasticand tiredly cynicalabout my unvarying circuitof the city.'There's anotherchurch ortemple orshop orbar or...
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