I love the rain. I love how it seems to make everything feel… better. Smoother, somehow. Most people just enjoy the idea of rain. They like the sound it makes on the windowpane, or the cathartic feeling it gives. But it seems few actually enjoy the rain itself. But I’m different. I don’t love it just because I find it relaxing—which, don’t get me wrong, I do. But I’m not the type to absently daydream out of a window or bury myself in some book when the rain falls. No, I love to be in the rain. I love to be in the kind of rain that’s so suffocating you can’t see the woman sneak up behind you as you…

I was driving down the highway thirty three past midnight. I was trying to go as fast as possible without breaking the speed limit. The last thing I needed was a cop following me when I was driving a stolen car, had a dead man in the trunk, two shotguns, a handgun in my strap and a bag full of cash in the passenger seat. I was tired to say the least, my last and only meal had been a stale sandwich I got from a run down gas station around midday, thanks god it didn’t do anything funny to my stomach or would be in serious shit. My burn phone was dead as dead can be; maybe that was…

That night, the words of my father lingered on… “Son, never allow wrongdoing without vengeance. Each time someone crosses you, don’t simply double-down, but make them pay threefold – they crossed you even if they didn’t have to!” …that night, after I finally found him…for so many years he’s kept himself hidden under a fake identity, a different address, with his wife and kids. Who would’ve even thought this man could live a life so familial, so ordinary, so fake? That night I entered a house; no one had heard me, nor suspected what I would do in the moments that would follow – he was upstairs, fucking his wife. Unnoticed, I entered the room and observed their act. He…

That night, the words of my father lingered on… “Son, never allow wrongdoing without vengeance. Each time someone crosses you, don’t simply double-down, but make them pay threefold – they crossed you even if they didn’t have to!” …that night, after I finally found him…for so many years he’s kept himself hidden under a fake identity, a different address, with his wife and kids. Who would’ve even thought this man could live a life so familial, so ordinary, so fake? That night I entered a house; no one had heard me, nor suspected what I would do in the moments that would follow – he was upstairs, fucking his wife. Unnoticed, I entered the room and observed their act. He…

I love the rain. I love how it seems to make everything feel… better. Smoother, somehow. Most people just enjoy the idea of rain. They like the sound it makes on the windowpane, or the cathartic feeling it gives. But it seems few actually enjoy the rain itself. But I’m different. I don’t love it just because I find it relaxing—which, don’t get me wrong, I do. But I’m not the type to absently daydream out of a window or bury myself in some book when the rain falls. No, I love to be in the rain. I love to be in the kind of rain that’s so suffocating you can’t see the woman sneak up behind you as you…

I was driving down the highway thirty three past midnight. I was trying to go as fast as possible without breaking the speed limit. The last thing I needed was a cop following me when I was driving a stolen car, had a dead man in the trunk, two shotguns, a handgun in my strap and a bag full of cash in the passenger seat. I was tired to say the least, my last and only meal had been a stale sandwich I got from a run down gas station around midday, thanks god it didn’t do anything funny to my stomach or would be in serious shit. My burn phone was dead as dead can be; maybe that was…

That night, the words of my father lingered on… “Son, never allow wrongdoing without vengeance. Each time someone crosses you, don’t simply double-down, but make them pay threefold – they crossed you even if they didn’t have to!” …that night, after I finally found him…for so many years he’s kept himself hidden under a fake identity, a different address, with his wife and kids. Who would’ve even thought this man could live a life so familial, so ordinary, so fake? That night I entered a house; no one had heard me, nor suspected what I would do in the moments that would follow – he was upstairs, fucking his wife. Unnoticed, I entered the room and observed their act. He…

I was driving down the highway thirty three past midnight. I was trying to go as fast as possible without breaking the speed limit. The last thing I needed was a cop following me when I was driving a stolen car, had a dead man in the trunk, two shotguns, a handgun in my strap and a bag full of cash in the passenger seat. I was tired to say the least, my last and only meal had been a stale sandwich I got from a run down gas station around midday, thanks god it didn’t do anything funny to my stomach or would be in serious shit. My burn phone was dead as dead can be; maybe that was…

I love the rain. I love how it seems to make everything feel… better. Smoother, somehow. Most people just enjoy the idea of rain. They like the sound it makes on the windowpane, or the cathartic feeling it gives. But it seems few actually enjoy the rain itself. But I’m different. I don’t love it just because I find it relaxing—which, don’t get me wrong, I do. But I’m not the type to absently daydream out of a window or bury myself in some book when the rain falls. No, I love to be in the rain. I love to be in the kind of rain that’s so suffocating you can’t see the woman sneak up behind you as you…