7
The following night, Ralph decided to go out earlier than usual. The crow had not tasted so good, with very little meat picked from its bones. Mo had not partaken, as she had said, and when after the evening meal he told her he was going out, she barely raised an eyebrow, the television holding all her attention.
Her admission of a******y changed little for him. For some considerable time, the thought of killing Mo had percolated through his mind. He had always resisted it, but now that the line had been crossed and he had taken dead meat from the road, it didn’t seem such a huge step to instigate a killing himself. Mo could be the perfect way to start, to get his hands dirty so to speak. He had thought about killing animals but killing a human being, and Mo, in particular, that was so
