Don't worry about senility - When it hits you, you won't know it
Bill Cosby.
Don’t Give up Hope
‘Don’t give up hope,’ she said
It was easy for her to say, but she would stay in the safe, warm, comfort of the cottage, while he had no choice but to go out and confront the killer that had invaded their cosy world. He had battled with him before and after a long and hard struggle had been convinced that he had killed him. He had called it him, but it was wrong to label with any gender, a beast that cold bloodedly strangles without thought or compassion. Beast, or it, he had decided was a far better way to describe such a rampant killer and had from then on referred to it as such.
The beast had arrived the year before, he had no idea where it had come from, but suspected that having run out of victims elsewhere the serial killer had migrated to fresh hunting grounds. Imagine his horror when he found that it gotten into the nursery and was murdering his babies in their beds. He attacked the beast as it choked, throttled and smothered them, ripping it from them in a grief driven frenzy. He had burnt it and scattered the ashes and thought that the beast would never kill again.
But he was wrong and the evil beast having risen like a Phoenix from the ashes was back again. However, this time, he was determined to exterminate it or die in the attempt. Having decided on his weapon, he had spent two hours with a hone until the tangs were as sharp as needles and now he was ready to do battle. He pulled on his gauntlets, picked up his weapon and stepped out into the garden. There was no time for hesitation, he marched straight up to the beast, raise his weapon, drove it in and worked it back and forth. Then dropping to one knee began to remove the vile couch grass from his beloved garden.
