I crossed a field on what looked like a college campus—brick buildings, clean sidewalks, lush grass in between—talking to a student. Up ahead there was a fountain, and standing before it, a pair of men who had blue-black tattoos on the crowns of their heads, covering their pates; just a large blob of dark color. Hair would cover the tattoos, but both men had super-short buzz cuts, so you could see that they were marked.
As we got closer to the fountain, a bird flew overhead. It looked like a mallard but with brighter colors. The student told me the tattooed men were going to kill the duck and eat it.
And they did.
the end
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