The Mercy Giver

A Tale of Death

By Woelf Dietrich

Chapter 1

The traffic cop stopped me on a Thursday. I rolled down my window as he approached. "Hello, Sir," he said. "Did you know you were speeding back there?"

"No, I didn’t officer." My hands were still on the steering wheel, relaxed. A moment of silence followed as the cop studied me. His belly squeezed over his belt. It reminded me of rising dough.

"The speed limit is 60. You were going 7. . .