Let me tell you a story about Lucas …
He thought he could out fox the people around him. As he craftily slipped from under the fence of the jungle, filled with wild beasts, slithering creatures that were hidden in the grass, ready to pounce and bite till they gave in to the temptation of their kiss.
He would roam the streets, up and down, up and down with his tail sweeping the floor and his head close to the ground to eat the crumbs left in his path. Ravage the chickens who were left alone, frightened, hungry for food.
Lucas, the foxy, a crooked smile with a bony body, deep dark were his eyes and the burning desire to devour.
As he cackled and laughed, behind the mask of lies hidden behind his saintly black cloak as he clawed, scratched in search for the next ..
Dishonesty was his game, as he dishonoured the very name he had been given, a family, a name. Lying in Mexico. There he waits….
Watching, waiting, patience was the game…
Till the day the story will be told … to be continued
By L.N. Parker