The Beast

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He shouldn't have.

They're coming now. There they are.

Walking down the slope, past the climbing frame. Twenty metres away now, maybe thirty. They've reached the plants with red flowers. They're like the ones at Säter secure unit, near the front door. He guessed they were roses. Or whatever.

He shouldn't have.

It doesn't feel the same afterwards. Not so strong, it's like the sensation's gone.

There now. Two of them, walking along, their heads close together, talking. They're friends, it's easy to spot. Friends talk in a special way, using their hands as well.

It seems the dark-haired girl is in charge. She's a live wire, wants to get everything said in one go. The blonde one is mostly listening. Maybe she's tired? Maybe she's a quiet one, who never talks much. Quiet ones don't need their own space to feel sure they're alive. Maybe one is dominant and the other one dominated. Isn't that always the way?

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