Did I write this during a miserable heat wave? Yes I did!
Cars rumbled blow as Grim ran her fingers over the metal wires at the top of the suspension bridge. Each squeak of the tire or maddening honk was just another predictor that soon Grim’s stolen moment in time would soon be over.
As Grim fished a wrapped sandwich from her pocket, a warm, wet wind whipped through her ceremonial cloak. The chances of her next victim dying from the neverending heat wave was high. Fortunately for Grim, she didn’t need to worry about heat stroke or dehydration. She could just suffer miserably through any weather, claiming life after life and hoping for some sort of reprieve.
Grim pulled back the plastic wrap from her sandwich and sighed. It was already warm. She’d snagged it from the chilled section of some supermarket while listening to an older woman complain about why she wasn’t supposed to die yet. Grim hadn’t really been interested much in the sandwich, but it was cold, and she had fancied taking a break and eating something. A cold ham and cheese sandwich would work well, if it hadn’t warmed in her pocket as she worked an unfortunate apartment fire.
At least the sandwich tasted fine, even if warm. Grim took a second bite and chewed slowly, savoring hints of her favorite cheese while she watched sunlight sparkle on cresting waves. On her third bite, the shriek of metal on metal cut through the driving below, and the familiar pull to the next body returned.
Lunch was over.
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