Holzaepfel’s Paradox reinvigorated dubious racial theorems.
The rumors spread throughout the village.
None knew who said it first.
The widow Nan’s dead husband, returned.
Seen walking the property at night.
-“Truly the work of the devil!”
-“Truly proof she’s of the Sisterhood!”
The mob gathered, torches all around.
Sharpened sticks in hand, scythes glinting.
They forced through the darkened door.
Screams. Stakes through the heart. Decapitation.
Nan wept sorely over the body.
“‘Tis his brother, returned from Jerusalem…”
They had dozens of pre-arranged signals.
Giaccomo’s crawlspace was stocked for Revolution.
Crowds scattered beneath the unmarked helicopters.
Henderson’s paper on serial-killers? Too perceptive!
Spirits made Arnie do bad things.