Narrated by Michael J. DeLuca.
A wind picked up, and a half-torn poster of the Scrimshander flapped on a lamppost. The caricaturist walked over to it, reached out to rip it up into pieces. One word was partially legible above the face, and the way the poster flapped in the wind made the word there, gone, there, gone, as if flashing. Strike—
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Read “The Scrimshander” by Damien Krsteski, in Issue #255