The Dead Crow

The pen shakes unforgivably in my hand as I think back to the moment that I last saw my wife. I had never wanted to see her in such a state, not even in my darkest nightmares. Fate threw up a new design, and that included her murder at the hands of merciless people.

London had been nothing but a curse on my life. The vermin that littered the streets and the smog that filled the air provided harsh reminders that the city was a disgusting, sinful place; where corruption and murder was rife, and men like me struggled to survive.

What followed my wife's death was an air of bloody carnage and regret as I attempted to seek answers, and try to understand why she was murdered. But sometimes things are best left in the past, as hard as it might be.

I tried so hard to create the idyllic future fo

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